


Not What You Deserve

by angelsandbrowncoats



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Ivy ships it, Learning To Communicate, Love Confessions, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Self-Esteem Issues, Slow Burn, as in she's got a criminal fetish thing going, bit of a character study at times, for both ed and os in the end, for nygmobblepot although i guess for isabella if u look at it from the right angle???, isabella portrayed as a fan of ed's crimes, ivy is a good friend, kinda sorta sickfic at one point, necrophilia discussed in the context of an insult, vaguely smutty dream, various insults
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 08:21:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11551272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsandbrowncoats/pseuds/angelsandbrowncoats
Summary: When Oswald makes an error resulting in his near death, he finds himself in the care and confidence of a young girl in a woman's body: Ivy Pepper. Taking the opportunity to vent about his feelings for Ed and his hatred towards the woman he supposedly loves, Oswald lets Ivy into his life. Luckily for him, Ivy stops him from making the biggest mistake of his life and losing Ed forever. The only question is: what now?Ed is happy with Isabella - for the most part - but he can't help but feel concerned by Oswald's becoming so distant. He wonders if the strange woman that his friend was so quick to trust is behind everything. If only he could think properly...





	Not What You Deserve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tozierwheeler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tozierwheeler/gifts).



> So, it's finally done! I'm actually super pleased with how this turned out, and it is hands down the longest thing I've ever finished. Fair warning that I have still not seen 3x1-3x12, only fanfic, meta, and gifs, but I hope that, combined with the canon divergence of adding Ivy half a year early, is enough to avoid any major errors on my part. 
> 
> This entire thing was inspired by a tumblr post from @papinygma that I'll try to link sometime in the future. I won't type it up because technically that might count as a spoiler if you don't already have an idea of where this story is going. But I just want to say thank you so much to Jade for the prompt & for discussing the story with me while I was writing it & for being an all-around cool friend! (I never got around to adding the bit about how he becomes the Riddler, but in my head, in this AU, it's basically Ivy's idea)
> 
> So, as usual, I hope you all enjoy!

"I dunno, Pengy," Ivy twirled and untwirled a lock of her hair, watching the way it moved.

"How many times must I tell you not to call me that?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'm just saying, I don't think it's a great idea."

Oswald frowned at her, "And what makes you say that?"

"Killing his girlfriend? Really? Look, I don't know how it works for guys, but I'm pretty sure that's _not_ the best way to win someone over. How many times have I had to listen to you ramble on about how brilliant he is? You really think he wouldn't find out eventually? He'd be pissed. I would, if it were me."

"So what? I do nothing? You want me to just sit here while he goes gallivanting around the city with some harlot he's known for - what, a week? This _woman_ is poison, Ivy! Believe me. She's using Ed for some nefarious purpose and he's being _willfully_ blind all because she has a _slight_ resemblance to his dead girlfriend," Oswald paced back and forth, clutching his glass of scotch tightly, glad at least to be at Ivy's place rather than the mansion. He couldn't let Ed stumble in on him when he was being a mess.

Ivy and Oswald had only met a few days ago themselves. While Ed was out on one of his despicable dates, Oswald had decided to go for a nice long walk in the middle of the night, hoping to clear his head. Instead, he'd been set upon by _common criminals,_ but without his usual guard, he'd only been able to take a few down before he'd been overwhelmed. He'd woken up in the abandoned house Ivy had taken over with a strange concoction plastered to his injuries and his wallet missing.

He'd been upset, but he recognized Ivy as an ally. He decided after a few hours that he liked the girl and she'd only grown on him since. Her enthusiasm reminded him of his first meeting with Ed, all that time ago in the GCPD. He hadn't appreciated Ed back then, so he determined not to make the same mistake again. Now he'd taken her education upon himself, realizing that, despite her physical age, the girl was only fifteen. He wondered if this was what having a sibling was like. Unbeknownst to him, Ivy wondered the same.

That reminded him.

"Ivy, there's something I've been meaning to tell you," he speaks before she has a chance to respond to his tirade, if she intended on doing so at all.

"Yeah?"

"I understand that you may prefer the freedom and independence this place grants you, but you should know that you would be welcome to come and live in my manor. There is more than enough room for you _and_ your plants, if you want."

Ivy tilted her head, chewing on her lower lip, "Huh. I don't know. How long?"

"What?"

"How long could I stay there?"

Oswald felt his jaw drop, "I'm sorry? How long can you - ? As long as you want, of course. Provided you don't betray me, that is."

"Oh. I've never considered a permanent home. Would I get my own space?"

"Yes, you'd get your own space. It's a mansion, remember? You can have a room for you and another for your plants, if you like. Or just one. Or three. It hardly matters. The place was designed to be occupied by up to eight people, discounting servants, and as of right now the only occupants are myself and Ed with the occasional inclusion of our housekeeper, Olga."

"So I wouldn't have to see people or anything?"

"Not if you didn't want to. Although I don't think a tutor would be a bad idea..."

"No thanks."

"Alright, alright," Oswald waved a hand, "No tutor. But I'm ordering you a pile of textbooks."

Ivy pouted, "Textbooks are made of paper. Paper is made of trees. Don't support harmful forestry."

"Would you prefer electronic? I could probably get Ed to rig something up. He might even enjoy writing them himself."

"Fine. But if I don't like a subject, I'm ignoring it."

Oswald rolled his eyes, "Don't blame me if you can't do something, then."

"Sure. Whatever. Can we get back to your unhealthy obsession with your crush's girlfriend now?"

"I do not have - !"

"Yes you do," Ivy settled in a chair, eyes still following Oswald on his march back and forth across the room, "You were plotting to have her murdered not ten minutes ago. It's a good thing you have me. Honestly."

Oswald gave a pout of his own, far more practiced than she, and replied, "Fine. I may not be wholly familiar with the finer points of wooing. I'll admit it. I am not sure how _you_ would be better versed, but I'll let it slide. Now dazzle me. What would _you_ suggest, if not murder?"

Ivy hummed, reaching out to pet a plant nearby as she thought, "Well, the issue is that he's in a relationship. It's a real pity we didn't meet earlier. Cat taught me all kinds of things about winning people over that you could have used."

"I'm aware of what the issue is. I'm looking for the _solution_."

"Uh huh. Personally, I'd give it a bit more time, you know? I've heard about this whole 'honeymoon phase' thing where couples are like, _obsessively_ in love for a while but eventually it wears off and they start to hate each other. This sounds like it could go that way."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Well, I think this would be what Cat calls 'playing it cool', but like, you should act like you don't care."

"What?"

"I'm serious. Look, if he never had any feelings for you then it wouldn't really matter whether he was with this Isabelle chick or not, because he still would've said no to you. But it sounds to me like maybe he just got tired of waiting, or he's decided there isn't any hope, and he's tried to move on so as not to upset _you_. If that's the case, his feelings for you are probably deeper than his feelings for her. Like... like a tree versus a sunflower. The tree's roots are deep and the tree is always there, but sometimes it's bare. A sunflower is an annual, so it blossoms bright, but once it dies, it never comes back. You're the tree, she's the sunflower. He may be more attracted to her right now but you're the one he'll come back to. Understand?"

"Not really... But what does this have to do with me not caring?"

"Well, if he _does_ care about you, even if it's currently being overshadowed by Isabelle, then you can make him jealous. Act like you don't care. Draw back a little. Show him that you won't be treated like an object that he can pick up and put down at his own convenience. If he doesn't give then he doesn't get. You feel?"

"I guess... but what if he takes it as a sign that I _don't_ care about him?"

"He might, but it'll still bother him and that's where you can get him. As soon as you _know_ he misses you, you can go right back to weirdly co-dependent. If you want. Or you can keep playing it, depending on how everything feels. Cat once gave that advice to Barbara, you know, before she went all crazy?"

"And did it work?"

"No, but only because she left before Gordon got the chance to see her and get jealous. The idea was to make him think she'd moved on. I'm not sure that's the best idea for you, just pull back a bit. And blame it on his girlfriend if he asks."

"How?"

"'I feel like we never see each other anymore'," she mimicked a deep voice, completely missing the mark, but in her defense, she'd never even met Ed. She did slightly better in her Oswald imitation as she continued with, "'Well, I always feel like I'm keeping you from your girlfriend. You're always so eager to be rid of me, I thought I'd do my part to help out.' And really lay on the 'I support you' crap. It'll make him feel guilty."

Oswald slowly began to grin. At last, he'd understood Ivy's plan. Ingenious, really, and more than a little evil.

"You're a girl after my own heart, Ivy. You'll be a great manipulator someday. Perhaps I should expand your education beyond the realm of academia?"

~ ~ ~

Ed frowned when he finally made it home. The evening had been great, for the most part. His date with Isabella had kicked off wonderfully, with a nice dinner and a romantic stroll. But somewhere along the way the conversation had taken an uncomfortable turn as the topic had somehow, once again, landed on Miss Kringle. Isabella seemed _fascinated_ by Kristen, always asking, always comparing, and frankly it was beginning to unsettle Ed. He kept trying to change the subject, move on to something more cheerful, but Isabella always managed to bring it back. His social energy was completely depleted by the time he'd dropped her off at her place, and getting to kiss her goodnight had only marginally improved his mood. All he wanted now was to get home, have some chamomile tea by the fire to help induce sleep, and chat with Oswald. Oswald almost _never_ drained his social energy. Mostly because Ed didn't have to pretend _anything_ around him. It was nice.

But the limousine had been glaringly missing when he'd arrived. Oswald was out. Again. It had to have been the fourth time since Tuesday. And the worst part was, Oswald hadn't mentioned going anywhere. Nothing was on his schedule. He, Ed pulled out his phone to double check, hadn't texted or left a message. No note was on the table. He was just gone.

_He's a fully grown man, he can leave his own house without having to alert people._

But he's the mayor. And the kingpin. Surely it would be dangerous for him not to let Ed know where he was. What if something happened to him? Who would track him down? And what could possibly be keeping him out past midnight if not business, in which case Ed should have been fully aware of it?

He rubbed his temples in agitation as he began to brew some tea. A memory from earlier that week emerged and he glared at the mug. He'd gone to Oswald to ask about an inconsistency in some of his papers, but when he'd opened the door, Oswald had been standing in front of the mirror, shirt raised. Ed had made to look away when the discoloration of the skin caught his attention. Faded bruises and scabbing scrapes covered his stomach and sides. Before he could open his mouth to ask Oswald who the fuck had the nerve, Oswald caught sight of him in the mirror and dropped his shirt. He immediately pushed Ed for the reason for his presence and steadfastly refused to let Ed stray from the topic, unceremoniously shoving him out of the office as soon as they'd finished. Ed still hadn't discovered how to broach the subject again.

That Oswald was up to something was obvious. That he didn't want Ed to know was doubly so. The idea that Oswald had been hurt - and badly, by the looks of it - and he'd hidden it from Ed was terrifying. Ed had as much a right to take care of Oswald as Oswald had to take care of him, right? Only nights ago he'd sworn to do anything for Oswald and he'd meant it. Surely Oswald should have come to him?

What was Oswald keeping from him? And why? Did he not think he could trust Ed? What had Ed done to lose his trust? Or was it something he needed to do to gain it? It was frustrating, not knowing, Ed decided.

A thought struck him and he paused in the middle of his work. Had this been the secret Oswald had been so reluctant to say? What he'd planned to tell him over dinner? Was Ed's standing him up somehow a signal that Ed wasn't responsible enough to be involved?

That thought had his fingers curling around, nails digging into flesh. He'd failed Oswald's test. He wasn't worthy of his position. That must be it. Oswald was going to slowly cut him out of everything - their partnership in crime, his duties as Chief of Staff, until finally Ed was out of his life. And it would be justified, because Ed couldn't handle one simple task. He felt his breath quicken and he breathed in the steam from his tea to fight back the tears. _It wasn't fair_ , he wanted to scream, but then again maybe it was.

A sound from outside had him rubbing a hand up and down his face, through his hair, anything to look composed. He couldn't let Oswald know he was breaking down. That would be the nail in his coffin. No, he needed to be flawless in his every move from now on, anything to change Oswald's mind, to reassure him that it was a fluke, that Ed was capable, that Ed was _deserving_.

And then he heard a woman's voice and everything stopped.

His hands were shaking and he didn't know why. They usually only did that under extreme stress and anxiety. Perhaps it was his fear of being rejected. Again. That must be it. He wrapped them around the mug he'd just poured, steadfastly ignoring the way it burned because Oswald was around the corner and he couldn't let it show.

A gasp behind him had him turning around. A tall woman with wavy red hair and a curious expression stood in the doorway, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Oswald was a few paces behind, lips pursed in a disapproving manner.

"You're Ed, aren't you," she said rather than asked, staring at him. He blinked, unsure who she was or why she would know him, "Only to my friends. Oswald, is she a friend?"

If that question had a double meaning, then Ed wasn't consciously aware of it.

"Indeed she is. Ed, meet Ivy Pepper. Ivy, this is Ed."

She took a few steps closer, hand outstretched, "I've heard so much about you."

The words were followed by a giggle and Ed arched an eyebrow as he gingerly accepted the handshake, "I'm afraid I have no idea who you are."

"Oh, that's alright. I figured Ozzie wouldn't have told you about me. It's kind of an embarrassing story, how we met," she winked at him while Oswald gave a warning glare. It was friendly, not threatening, Ed noted.

"'Ozzie'?" was what he chose to focus on instead.

"He claims he likes that one better than Pengy, but he hasn't fooled me. I know he secretly adores being called Pengy. He gets all cute and grumpy when I say it."

"I do not!"

"Yeah you do, Pengy," she smiled sweetly at him before her expression turned serious, "So, where can I put the plants?"

"Ah, yes, of course. An eastern window is preferable, right? There's a conservatory down this way," Oswald ushered her out of the room, not even glancing at Ed as they left as abruptly as they had come. Ed stared after them.

What the utter fuck had just happened?

Had Oswald seriously invited this girl into their home without asking - without even _mentioning_ it to him once? And who was she? And why was she so familiar with Oswald? He let her call him _Pengy_ for heaven's sake!

Oh god, what if this was Oswald's way of pushing him to move out? Had Ed been evicted from his life already? He thought he'd have a few weeks, at least, to convince him to let Ed back in, but now? Had he just shaken hands with his replacement?

He took a sip of the tea, cringing a little at the sweet-bitter taste before he felt it start to cloud his brain. Normally he despised the lack of control that encompassed, but he didn't want to think anymore tonight. His mind was off enough as it was, he needed to sleep before re-evaluating or risk a mistake, and as he'd already told himself, he had no room for mistakes. Finishing the drink with a shudder, he rinsed out the mug and headed for his bed, already feeling a fluffy sort of pressure behind his eyelids.

~ ~ ~

When he opened his eyes, he could tell without needing his glasses that he'd woken up early. The sun hadn't risen yet. Grabbing his alarm clock and bringing it up to his face, he sighed at the glowing red 4:38. Might as well get out of bed.

Snatching up his glasses and a robe, Ed wandered down to the kitchen, putting some coffee on before heading outside to enjoy the cool air of pre-morning. It was the most soothing time to be alive, because nothing ever happened then. He couldn't feel anxious about things when there were no things to feel anxious about.

"Woah!"

He nearly jumped out of his skin, head swiveling fast enough to risk whiplash.

"Sorry," the girl - Ivy? - was standing near the edge of the house, practically flat against it, "I think we scared each other."

"Hmm," Ed looked her up and down, eyes narrowed, "Miss Pepper, what - "

"Ivy."

"What?"

"Call me Ivy. I wouldn't expect someone like you to understand, but some people don't really like their surnames."

If there was anything to derail Ed from his quest to discover who this girl was and what she was doing here, that was it. As much as she claimed to know about him, clearly she didn't know everything...

Of course she didn't know about that! She'd heard about him from Oswald and he'd never even mentioned... Not that he hadn't thought about it once or twice. He'd never felt the urge to discuss his past, but then again, he'd never felt close enough to anyone to do so. He'd almost brought it up that night on the couch, but he hadn't wanted to bring down the mood any lower. One injury was enough for the night.

Now it seemed like he might not have the chance.

"Ivy, then," he shook his head as he recalled his original question, "What are you doing out here?"

"I could ask you the same."

"I happen to live - "

"So do I, now. Live here. Oswald asked me last night and, well, I'd have to be an idiot to turn down a place this nice, right?"

"Excuse me for being blunt, but who the hell are you, again?" Ed couldn't resist asking. It was disturbing how familiar she was with Oswald, seeing as how he'd never heard of her.

"Ivy. We already covered this, silly," she smiled at him. It did not improve his opinion of her, "That's not what I meant. Who are you to Oswald?"

"Why, you jealous?" her smile grew even further and she bit her lip as if to stop more words from spilling out.

"Jeal - Jealous - I - " Ed spluttered, "I am no such thing! How presumptuous! Why on earth would you ever suggest - What would I be jealous - I'm not - I don't -"

"But you're not a lady," she said, without any context, and giggled.

"Excuse me?"

"Bruce said that once, when he was hanging with Cat, to somebody he was antagonizing. 'The lady doth protest too much' I think he said. Kinda weird phrasing, but that's rich people for you. He said it was a quote from, like, Socrates or something."

"Shakespeare."

"Hmm? Oh, yeah," she snapped her fingers, "That's the one. One of those stuffy old dead dudes."

"You still haven't answered my question," Ed grit his teeth.

"You still haven't answered mine."

"I asked first!" the ridiculousness caught up with Ed even as the words left his lips and he quickly added, "Besides, your question was nonsensical."

"You keep telling yourself that, buddy. If you must know, I saved Ozzie's life. Is that good enough for you or do you want to run some blood tests on me too, or something?"

"Not a bad idea, but hardly vital. You claim to have saved his life, but when was his life in... Oh. The bruises. Of course."

"He showed you? Really?" she seemed surprised, and Ed felt indignant until he remembered that Oswald had _not_ , in fact, shown him. His nostrils flared and he replied shortly, "No. I saw them by accident."

"What, did you like, 'accidentally' walk in on him in the shower or something?" she winked and Ed felt the familiar urge to kill.

"Watch yourself, _Ivy_. You may have acquired our dear Mayor's trust, somehow, but I will not be so easily won over. You have shown yourself only to be ignorant and irritating and if you so much as poke your nose somewhere it doesn't belong do not think I would hesitate to _cut. it. off!"_ he fumed. Ivy's eyes widened but her smile didn't drop, "Don't worry, Eddie - "

"Ed!"

" - I'm not after your position. Actually I would hate for Oswald to think of me the way he thinks of you. No thank you. Too much... responsibility, or something."

"Or something?"

"Yeah. Or something."

Ed took a deep breath to calm himself, "So if you aren't after my position, what exactly _are_ you after?"

Ivy did frown at that, a thoughtful frown, "I dunno. Never really thought about it. It's just been me and my plants for the longest time. I know Oswald wants me to study and stuff, but it's not like school did me any good back when I actually went."

"Study? At a Gotham U?" If that were the case, she'd probably be gone before she'd arrived. Gotham U underclassmen were required to live on campus.

"Hell no. I stopped going to school at," she glanced up, trying to recall, "So it's been half a year since _that,_ and then it was two years on the street, so... sixth grade? Or was it seventh? Who cares, am I right?"

"Sixth gr- How old _are_ you?" Ed asked, mental calculations coming up wrong again and again.

"Fifteen? I think. Birthdays weren't a big deal back with my parents and it's not like I kept a calendar afterwards."

"After your parents?" he could get back to her being fifteen later, after he'd had his coffee, "What happened to them?"

"Dead."

"Oh? Both of them?"

"Within a week or so of each other. Still don't know if I wanna thank the guy that did it or hunt him down."

Now this was the sort of thing Ed wanted to know. Perhaps Oswald hadn't been misguided in allowing her into his, _their_ , life. Perhaps she was like them.

"Do you know who he was?"

"Oh yeah. Everyone knows who he is. It was all over the papers and he's hardly left them since."

"Really?"

"Yeah. That detective, you know?"

Ed's blood ran cold. She couldn't mean -

"Jim Gordon?"

"Yep."

And it all fell into place.

"Ivy... Pepper. Your Mario Pepper's daughter. The guy they framed for the Wayne murders."

"Yep."

"No you're not."

"Sorry?"

"I was still working forensics during that case. I _saw_ Mario Pepper's daughter and that wasn't three years ago. No way you're her."

"Let me explain - "

"No. At least, not until I've had coffee. It should be ready by now," he marched back inside, listening as she followed but never turning around. It didn't make any sense. She was _at least_ five years too old. It was impossible.

He poured himself a mug of coffee and sat down at the table. Ivy followed and he noted that she'd helped herself to her own mug.

"So here's how it is..."

~ ~ ~

"And now you look like this?" Ed asked, still not fully comprehending. Yet, he'd seen Indian Hill. There were _definitely_ stranger things than a fifteen year old in a twenty or so year old's body.

"Pretty much."

"Ivy! That had better not be what I think it is!"

They turned to see Oswald in the doorway, already fully dressed for the day. Ivy could have given it away with her guilt but the way she hid the mug under the table cinched it.

"You are far too young to be drinking coffee."

"Ozzie..."

"Oswald, don't be ridiculous. The effects of caffeine are of a physical variety. Physically it won't harm her anymore than it harms us."

Oswald huffed and got his own mug before sitting down and grumbling, "So I guess the two of you are getting along, since you're already teaming up against me?"

"Hardly," Ed replied coolly before Ivy had the chance, "I intend to speak with you about this. In private. But one of my many duties is to prevent you from being illogical and your reaction _was_ illogical."

"Thank you for your opinion, Mr. Spock, but I didn't ask for it."

Ed fell silent, already feeling frustration crawling up his spine. It had been a very long time since he'd felt this uncomfortable in Oswald's presence. His resentment towards Ivy spiked again. She was the new factor. She must have decided to drive them apart for some reason. Money? Power? He wished he had Oswald's skills at reading people because there was something he wasn't getting.

Well, missing pieces or no, he wasn't going to let it. Let her. He'd prove his loyalty once and for all and Oswald would remember that Ed was the special one, the only one, the one he needed. And then it would just be he and Oswald again.

_And Isabella._

Oh. Right. Isabella. He smiled as her face appeared in his mind. He couldn't believe his luck. He'd gotten a second chance! A chance to do it right, to make things right. He just had to check himself. No matter what happened, if she panicked, if she insulted him, he'd check himself. He wouldn't let himself make the same mistakes twice. He could prove himself in that respect, as well, and then everything would be okay. He'd be okay.

"So what's on my schedule for today?"

Ed looked up. This was territory he could handle.

"Your first meeting is at nine o'clock. Parks service. A proposal has recently been made for a seasonal water feature near the playground, as well as a kid's section. You know, the thing with the little fountains that children like to run through? That, and some sort of ride. Marvin Eller is going to oppose it, countering with a proposal for a food stand. The food stand would be more profitable, unlike the water feature, but it has seen significantly less favor among the people. Gotham doesn't have a water park of any kind and people are sick of having to take a weekend in Metropolis for that sort of activity. I would advise throwing your support behind the water features.

You're free until one, which is when you meet with your transportation advisors on potential improvements to the subway system. Large portions of the subway have been shut down for over a decade due to under funding and they are now both health risks and breeding grounds for low-level criminal activity. Make re-opening them a priority over the minor changes your council will likely push. There will be time for velvet seats and electronic ticket booths later. Not only will you be fixing some other major problems with this move, you will also be opening the city to greater potential. Most of the areas that have been shut down are in poor districts, like The Bowery. Having efficient transportation throughout the city will allow skilled people from those neighborhoods the opportunity to move up the social and corporate ladders.

At three you'll be meeting with a reporter from the Gazette. Nothing big, and you'll be meeting over coffee. Don't stray too far from the subjects but if you have trouble in either of your earlier meetings, throw in a few words about your stance. If you get the public riled up in your favor, you can accomplish anything.

Finally, there's a gang meeting at eight. Shouldn't be too long, mostly routine reports of smuggling and threats. You should be completely done by nine p.m."

Oswald nodded, "Thank you, Edward. Anything else?"

Ed bit his lip, remembering what he'd promised Isabella the night before, "Could I - Would it be too much to ask for tomorrow afternoon off?"

"Another date, I presume?"

"Yes. I promised to take Isabella to the art fair by the river."

"Of course," Oswald smiled, glancing at Ivy before meeting his eyes again, "I would hate to get in the way. I care about you, Ed, you're my best friend. I would never want to be what stands between you and happiness. I'm more than capable of taking care of things without you for an afternoon or more. Take the whole day, if you want."

Ed frowned. His mind was so confused again. Oswald was being kind, giving him what he wanted, so why did his words upset him so much? It didn't make any sense. And it wasn't fair to Oswald to get mad when he was just trying to be nice.

"Thank you," he answered, although it sounded more like a question, "But you aren't getting in my way. Never think that. You're my best friend, too. I promise I won't slack off. I enjoy working for you too much. This won't become a regular thing."

There. Now Oswald would know that he was sorry about not being reliable and that he would try harder. He would fix things yet.

~ ~ ~

"Way to go, Ozzie!" Ivy squealed, clapping her hands, "Did you see that? You so got to him. He was totally upset!"

Oswald sighed, "What I saw was a man eager to have some alone time with his precious girlfriend. It's hopeless."

Ivy shook her head, "Nuh-uh. You were great! Didn't you see how flustered and guilty he looked when you said you felt like you were in his way? Or that little flicker of hurt when you said you were fine without him? Not to mention the way he almost bit my head off when he ran into me this morning, demanding to know, and I quote, 'Who are you to Oswald?' Don't you see?"

"See what?"

"He - He -," she devolved into a fit of giggles, "He thought I was your _girlfriend_. He was super jealous and really pissed."

Oswald frowned, "He shouldn't have done that. He has no right to yell at you... for any reason. I'll be having words with him about that. And if you're right - which you're not - but if you _are_ , he has no right to be possessive over me when _he's_ the one leaving me each night for that little tart. Supposing he was interested, he shouldn't expect me to just sit around and _wait_ for him!"

Oswald elected to ignore the fact that he was doing exactly that.

Ivy laid a hand on his shoulder, "Hey, I know what I saw. Give him time. Sooner or later, he's going to realize that his girlfriend can never be there for him like you can. Mark my words, he'll come back - on his knees, even, if you play it right. Be patient."

"That is one trait I am not known for."

Ivy shook her head again, "Now that's not quite true, is it? You waited to betray Fish Mooney, you waited to betray Maroni, you waited to betray Falcone, because you wanted the time to be right. And all the while you were being beaten, mocked, and spat on. If you were patient then, you can be patient now."

Oswald watched her with new appreciation, "Ivy?"

"Hmm?"

"What do you say, when I've got some free time, we go shopping? Anything you want. I've got more than enough money and I think you deserve it, after all the good advice you've given me."

"Anything?"

"Plants, clothes, toys, furniture, weapons, ice cream - _anything_."

"Awesome!"

~ ~ ~

Ed was pacing back and forth in his office. Oswald's meeting was over in five minutes, and it would be the perfect time to corner him and confront him about Ivy. Oswald had a three hour lunch break today, so he could spare a moment to discuss why he'd up and invited a meddling orphan girl into their home without a word to him beforehand.

He saw the Parks reps pouring out of the conference room and he stepped out into the hall to wait. He smirked when he saw Eller whispering in obvious rage at his assistant, brandishing a folder. Jackass had it coming for uttering the words 'homeless spikes' in Ed's presence. Every single one of his projects could bomb in Ed's mind. Maybe he'd lose his job, then.

Oswald was one of the last to leave the room, although he'd already handed off his own notes to a secretary. Ed saw him glance at his watch and then towards the door as he headed for his office. By the time Ed caught up to him, his coat was already on.

"Oswald?" he rapped his knuckles against the door as he entered, not waiting for a response, "I need to ta- Are you going somewhere?"

Oswald turned, raising an eyebrow, "Well, it's not really your business, since I'm officially off the clock until one, but yes. I'm taking Ivy out for lunch and shopping. Since my schedule's a little hectic, we're splitting it up and doing the rest at four. That girl could use some nice, tailored clothes. And some knives. I told her no guns until she's eighteen."

Ed frowned, chewing on his lower lip as his eyebrows drew closer together, disappearing behind the rim of his glasses, "Oswald, that's what I need to talk to you about."

"Hmm? Can you make it fast? I promised to pick her up as soon as the meeting was over."

"Os, I'm concerned about how quickly you've let this Ivy girl into your trust. How well do you even know her? You literally _just_ met, and now she's living with us? And you're leaving work in the middle of the day to take her all over the city? I don't like her, Oswald, and I certainly don't trust her. She claimed she saved your life, but I don't know if I believe her, and if she did, then why did your life even need saving in the first place? What if this is all some giant ploy to infiltrate your inner circle and topple your empire?"

While Ed was talking, Oswald's face had grown steadily redder and more pinched. When Ed paused for breath, Oswald jumped in.

"Well, excuse _me_ , Ed! I didn't realize you were so distrusting of strangers, nor did I realize you had a say in _my_ life! And for the record, yes: Ivy _did_ save my life. And I don't think you _deserve_ to know why. But know this, Ed. I trust Ivy like I would a sister, if I'd ever had one, and not that little whore, Sasha. I can do what I like with my day: I can spend it with whomever I like, and if I don't feel like sharing, then I _won't_ ," Oswald was very close now, leaning up into Ed's personal space. Ed felt as if he were looming over him, despite his height advantage, and it took every ounce of his anger to resist cowering.

"And while we're on the subject, I have a few things to say to you, too. You are not to threaten Ivy. You are not to lay a finger on her. If I hear any more stories of you shouting at her or otherwise interrogating her, I will not be pleased. Ivy stays. Am I making myself perfectly clear?"

Ed's nostrils flared and he threw his hands into the air, "Yes, but I don't _understand_. I thought we were doing fine, before. Things had never been better between us, and now look at us. How are we supposed to be this unbeatable team if we're fighting? Why did you have to change the game?"

Oswald visibly deflated before him, drawing back inside himself and shutting Ed out.

He brushed past him on his way out the door, not looking back as he sighed, almost too quiet for Ed to hear, "I wasn't the one who changed things, Ed."

And then he was gone. Off to spoil his new best friend. Ed stared after him, mouth hanging slightly open, lips curved down as he concentrated on breathing. His face was so tense it was beginning to feel numb. He didn't understand.

He hated not understanding.

Letting the tension slowly pour out, he let himself sink down, back sliding against Oswald's door as he stared at his hands.

What had gone wrong?

It had barely been a week since that night on the couch, when everything had seemed so perfect. But it felt like a lifetime ago. So much had happened since then, and somehow it had torn them apart. Everything Ed had done to prove his loyalty, undone in a few short days.

The voice in his head told him it was his fault, that he would never be enough for anyone, so why would he ever presume to be - pretend to be - enough for a man as magnificent, as powerful as the Penguin?

So, naturally, he blamed Ivy.

But mostly he just hugged his knees to his chest, falling back on methods he hadn't needed since the GCPD, techniques to cope with the never ending mockery and rejection.

It didn't stop the nagging thought that maybe they were all right.

Maybe he really was just a freak who didn't deserve friends.

Maybe he really was destined to drive away anyone who tried to get close.

Maybe he really was no more than unwanted baggage, only ever dragging people down.

And Oswald had finally realized it.

At least he still had Kr - Isabella.

~ ~ ~

The day of his date arrived and Ed could feel the excitement and anxiety tingling in his blood. He'd barely seen Oswald since their argument, and never alone. If it was at work, there were always secretaries and assistants or constituents and board members around. If it was at the mansion, then Ivy was there. And sometimes Olga, which was hardly an improvement for Ed. The only member of the household who actually seemed happy to speak to him was _Ivy_ of all people, despite his numerous rebuffs.

The worst part was that she reminded him of his younger self, and while he couldn't stand the reminder that Oswald didn't need or even necessarily want him around anymore, he couldn't help but feel guilty. He knew how it felt to be brushed off when he was excited about something and desperate to share.

But today it didn't matter. Today he was going to see Isabella, someone who he (miraculously) hadn't screwed things up with.

Yet.

He shook his head. No, he was going to do it right. He was going to prove once and for all that he could have a good relationship. That he was worthy of someone's love.

He'd failed with his parents. He'd failed with his co-workers. He'd failed Kristen. And now, apparently, he'd failed Oswald.

Isabella was all he had left.

His last chance to deserve love.

He wouldn't screw it up. He wouldn't.

Grabbing his coat and briefcase, he made his way to Oswald's office. He gave four short knocks, waiting this time. He didn't feel he had the right to enter on his own, anymore.

"Come in."

He opened the door, taking two steps into the room. Oswald was sitting at his desk, filling out some sort of form. He raised an eyebrow when he saw Ed, as if he were surprised.

"Ed?"

"I just wanted to make sure there wasn't anything urgent before I left," he said, unsure himself as to why he had come. Oswald knew when he was leaving. He'd reminded him over breakfast.

"Oh. In that case, no. There isn't. Nothing you need be concerned about anyway. Enjoy your date," Oswald answered in with a tone of polite, casual interest. The voice he used at balls and galas. It was not a voice Ed was used to hearing directed at himself. He didn't like it.

"Oh. Right. Of course."

He swallowed, "See you later, Oswald."

"Mmm."

Ed left, feeling slightly less elated. He and Oswald hadn't had a bad word between them since their fight, but somehow he felt worse. It was like he wasn't important enough to bother Oswald. Like he didn't care.

He shrugged it off for the time being. He wouldn't let Oswald's behavior cast a shadow over his date with Isabella. She deserved better than that.

No, he was going to be the most accommodating, the most attentive him he'd ever been.

Everything would be perfect.

~ ~ ~

Everything was not perfect.

Well, it had started out that way. The art fair was lovely, and Ed had even convinced Isabella to let him buy her a painting of Romeo and Juliet, one of her favorite plays. Or was it she who convinced him? He couldn't remember now. All he knew was that he couldn't look at it. Not anymore.

They'd stopped by a nice place for dinner. Not too nice, but fancy enough that their food took a good hour to get to them. Ed made sure to slip an extra hundred into the tip. Whatever moron ran this place clearly didn't understand things like efficient uniforms or appropriate numbers of staff. Maybe Oswald would buy -

No, Oswald likely wouldn't do anything at his request with where they stood right now.

Isabella had taken his hand, then, and he'd pushed thoughts of Oswald into a back corner of his mind.

"Why don't you come home with me, tonight?" she had whispered, voice full of unspoken promises. Her eyes shone with a kind of wild excitement, and if Ed had been paying more attention, he might have noticed that they looked like his did right before a kill.

Alas, he had failed to notice.

Isabella had pulled him through the door, insistent, hands roaming freely across him even as he closed her door. She practically slammed herself against it, pulling him closer. He hadn't resisted, leaning in to kiss her. But she didn't stop, pulling and pulling, like she wanted him to meld into her body.

She had broken off the kiss, moving to his ear to whisper to him.

"C'mon, baby, show me who you really are. Let yourself go. Let the monster out. Take me," she grabbed his hands, pulling them up towards her throat, "Break me."

He froze.

"Go on, I trust you. I know how much you want to. Just squeeze."

Ed shook his head, trying to pull back, "No, Isabella, it was sweet what you did for me, it really was, but I really don't want to hurt you. I'm not going to."

"Even though I asked nicely?"

"Even though you asked nicely," he insisted, "You may trust me, but I know myself better than you, and _I_ don't trust me."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure. I know you _very_ well, Ed. You just don't see it yet. Now wrap those pretty fingers of yours around my neck and squeeze. I promise you it'll feel so good."

Ed shook his head and the wild light in Isabella's eyes flared again, this time with a bit of rage.

" _No?_ You did it so easily to your precious 'Kristen' but you won't do it to me? Don't you love me, Eddie? Or am I just replacing that ungrateful little wench? You should love me more! She was so stupid. You killed for her, so poetic, so beautiful, and she couldn't see it! Couldn't appreciate it! But I can. I want to be your poem, Ed, I want to be your tragedy. Not that cold-hearted bitch."

Ed swallowed and continued to shake his head, "Please stop saying that about Miss Kringle. It wasn't her fault."

"Aren't you going to come to her defense? You've done it before, do it again! Just a little pressure, I promise. Just enough to leave me breathless and gasping. Don't tell me you haven't imagined it. That you haven't pictured me spread out beneath you, helpless, and all yours."

"I haven't, I swear!"

"Liar! You're a liar, and a coward," she snarled, "Too scared to claim what's rightfully yours. I've seen the beast in your eyes, listen to him. You've been scared and weak all your life, are you going to let your weakness get between us?"

Ed flinched, trying not to compare her words with the ones branded on his soul.

_Liar! Cheater! Freak!_

"Please don't call me that. I know you're trying to rile me up and get me to snap, but I don't know _why_. Can we please just talk about this? I really don't want to hurt you, and I promise I won't."

He didn't think about how similar those words were to the ones he'd said last time.

Her eyes grew even more fanatical as she latched onto a new tactic. She gasped, "I know! It's not about dear Kristen, is it? It's that odd little man you're far too devoted to. He's bad for you, Eddie. You shouldn't be so close to him. He's completely heartless, and he'll drop you like a hot rock the second he's done with you. You shouldn't put so much trust in a scrawny, whiny little freak like him. He - "

And then she gasped again, a smile blossoming on her face, because finally, _finally_ she'd gotten what she wanted. Her entire body hummed and throbbed with pleasure as long, bony fingers dug into the flesh of her neck. She leaned her head back, giving him more space, more access. Her breath became short and she felt her head growing light and dizzy. It was addictingly blissful and instead of reaching to push him off, she reached downwards, to both him and herself.

When he felt her touch, his eyes flickered in something like recognition, his normal self trying to wrestle control back from the monster.

With what little breath she had left she choked out, "That... creep... probably... fucks... the corpses... he leaves... behind..."

The fingers tightened fractionally and her eyes rolled upwards in pure orgasmic ecstasy.

Her smile froze on her face even as her eyes glazed over.

She was dead before she hit the ground.

But it was the thud that woke Edward from his trance.

His jaw dropped and he gasped in horror as he saw a shockingly familiar scene before him.

"No, no, nonono," he knelt down, feeling for a pulse - something, _anything_ to let him know he hadn't done the exact same thing as before.

 _You didn't_ , the voice in his head offered, _Last time it was because she was gonna tell the cops on us. This time it was because she called your boy a necrophiliac. Big difference._

Ed frowned. Oswald was not 'his boy', and the reason wasn't important. What was important was that he had killed _both_ of his girlfriends. He had indeed screwed up, and in the _exact same way as before._

Which meant, according to Ed's earlier frantic deductions, that he was undeserving of love.

And since he was looking the evidence in her stiff, unseeing face, he knew it must be true.

That didn't mean it didn't hurt.

He let out a choked sob and buried his face in his hands. He would have held Isabella and cried into her hair if he hadn't felt so unworthy of _that_ , too. It would be wrong of him to do so. He had no right crying on anyone but himself, and he wasn't even sure he had _that_ right.

But he couldn't help it.

All he'd ever wanted was someone who cared about him, someone who would take care of him and let him take care of them. He didn't know why he wasn't allowed to have it, he didn't know what he'd done to be so undeserving. He'd only tried to be himself.

But apparently he really was a monster.

He should have listened to his father and faded away. He only ever hurt the people he cared about, taking and taking from them and giving them nothing but pain in return. He was an emotional void, sucking in everything around him and leaving destruction in his wake.

It would have been better for the people he loved if he'd stayed far away from them.

And yet, Isabella had been right. He was weak. Too weak to stay away, even at the risk of danger to them. And that was why he was undeserving. Because he wasn't strong enough to give them up.

As if to prove his point, Ed found himself headed straight back to the mansion after numbly cleaning the scene of any evidence and simply leaving Isabella's body where it was. He might come back for it, or he might not.

He was too lost in the chaos of his mind to make decisions. He needed Oswald to do that for him.

But he swore to himself that once Oswald gave him direction, a path to take, he would take it and never look back. The Penguin clearly wanted him gone, and now Ed realized why. He knew he needed to get out of Oswald's life before he, too, ended up dead in a ditch somewhere. Ed was a poison, a disease, and he couldn't let himself infect Oswald. Oswald was the only one he had left.

Maybe even the closest of them all. Kristen and Isabella were too pure, no matter what they had done. Oswald may have been a better man than he, but at least he understood Ed. He'd never pushed too far, even when they were arguing.

So Ed had to make doubly sure to leave him be.

~ ~ ~

Oswald let out a slow breath as he sank into the armchair in his study. Ivy was standing nearby, looking dismissively through his collection of classic literature.

"I just dunno why everybody thinks they're so great. They're _booooring_. 'Oh no! Humans are not-so-secretly evil! Gasp!' Like seriously spend _one_ night homeless in a big city and no amount of tragic farm-hands and frat-boys is going to be enough to shock you with 'new' information about the human condition. People suck. Get over it."

"Be that as it may, I would like to teach you the finer points of crime someday. And one of the most important things to know is _everything_. Especially in a city as crazy as Gotham. You never know when you'll be up against some maniac who thinks he's a Shakespearean king or the reincarnation of Dickens. Or maybe it'll just be a subtle reference that someone drops, unable to resist a joke that only they should get, but in reality tipping you off to their true intentions."

Ivy nodded, frowning over-dramatically, " _Fiiine_. But I'm not going to look for 'symbols'," she raised her hands to do air-quotes, "Literally anything could be a symbol."

"Mmm," Oswald nodded, "You know what my favorite is?"

"What?"

"What color tie am I wearing?"

Ivy glanced down at it, confusion flitting across her face, "Purple. Why?"

"Purple is the color of royalty. Ergo, this tie symbolizes my position as the king of Gotham."

She laughed, nodding along, "Oh yeah! Duh! And you know what else?"

"What?" Oswald gave a real smile for the first time in what felt like ages.

"The fact that I have this new fancy dagger means I totally like boys because it's a phallic symbol. I must just be repressing that fact for some mysterious reason!"

Oswald burst out laughing, pulling a knife out of his own boot, "Well what do you know? Me too!"

"I don't think you're repressing it _at all,_ Ozzie."

Oswald shrugged, "Yeah, you're right."

"Oh, and Ozzie?"

"Yeah?"

"You do know that you don't have to wear yourself out for Ed, right? If he's not doing anything for you, you're under no obligation to be at his beck and call. Once he gets his head out of his ass, sure, you should be there for him, but until then, he doesn't have a right to demand jackshit from you."

"Thank you Ivy," Oswald said, actually meaning it, "Your support has been a blessing. I will certainly think about it, although I do enjoy taking care of him. He saved my life, you know."

Ivy gave a half shrugged, unimpressed, "So did I, and I don't treat you like he does. I'm sure he's nice underneath it all, but right now he's being a total douche. He _does_ want you to sit around waiting for him, and to be there for him, but without having to give up his girl for you. Like you're his but he's not yours. And you don't have to put up with that."

"You're probably right, of course," Oswald nodded, before his eyes lit up again and he unsubtly changed the topic, "Hey, you know what else is absolutely everywhere?"

"What?"

"Foreshadowing. Anything could be foreshadowing if you bend it far enough. That's called the art of bullshitting, and it is _definitely_ going to be a part of your curriculum."

"Cool," Ivy nodded.

"Now," said Oswald, "Would you like to see how to make a ransom note that cannot be traced back to you?"

"Hell yeah!"

~ ~ ~

"Ivy, why does yours say, 'The daisies are hungry'? These are supposed to be threatening!"

"Is that not threatening? You know what daisies eat, right?"

"What, human hearts?"

"Sure, sometimes. And the rest of a body, if it's buried near their root system."

Ed rolled his eyes at the girl's seeming delight. Loath as he was to admit it, she really was a good fit for Oswald. At least he knew Oswald wouldn't be lonely. He could pretend that made him feel better.

He had been standing outside the office for almost two minutes, hiding against a wall because the door was open. Finally, he drew up his courage and stepped into the doorway.

He cleared his throat.

"Oswald?"

The Penguin looked up immediately, as did the plant girl.

"Can I speak with you? In private? I need your advice."

"Of course."

Ivy stood from where she had been sitting near the desk, a piece of paper clutched between her newly painted nails. Ed glanced over to see Oswald's similarly done, albeit in a different color. So this was what they got up to when he was gone.

Before Ivy left, she turned to Oswald and said, "Remember what I told you."

He nodded, "Don't worry. I do."

She gave him a brief nod in acknowledgement before making herself scarce. Ed took that as his cue to enter the room properly.

"So? What is it, Ed?"

"I need your advice," he lowered himself deliberately into the chair before Oswald's desk, staring at his pencil cup. One hand began to tap an erratic rhythm against the polished surface.

"So you said."

"I don't know what to do. I feel so lost and confused. I need you to find out who I am supposed to be, and I need you to help me out of the dark."

Oswald stared him down over the tips of steepled fingers.

Ed held his breath.

The seconds ticked by, a large grandfather clock counting them out.

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick._

"No."

Ed's breath rushed out as he replied in a small voice, "What?"

He had to have heard wrong. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

"I said, 'No,' Ed. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm the mayor and the kingpin, and I've recently acquired a ward. I am neither a bartender nor a therapist, so if you are feeling out of sorts, I suggest you go find yourself one of them. Or better yet, go ask your girlfriend. I'm sure she'd be more than willing to help out. I'll see you tomorrow."

Ed felt like his chest was caving in as he struggled to breathe, the room spinning around him. No scenario in his mind had ever involved Oswald's saying no. He _still_ didn't understand. He was _trying_ , but he couldn't.

Getting up without quite realizing what he was doing, he stumbled towards the door, recognizing Oswald's dismissal for what it was. One hand clapped over his mouth as his chest gave a dry heave.

By the time he reached the door, the rest of Oswald's words had sunk in and he let out another small sob, sounding broken even to himself as he whispered - to himself? to Oswald? - he didn't know, "But I can't. She's dead."

And saying it out loud made it that much worse, so he fled. His legs were long and while he was hardly athletic, it didn't take him much time at all to reach the stairs. He thought he heard a sound behind him, but he couldn't figure out what it was.

When he turned to look, he felt his ankle twist and he slipped, falling hard and hitting his head on the old wooden stairs. The last thing he heard was Oswald calling his name, and he tried to answer because that was what Oswald would want and he would do anything for Oswald, but his jaw felt all wrong and no sound came out.

Then the world went dark and he couldn't hear anything anymore.

~ ~ ~

"IVY! IVY, HELP!"

Footsteps thundered down the hallway as Ivy ran towards Oswald, dagger at the ready. She skidded to a halt when she saw him standing alone and entirely intact, albeit looking quite upset as he pointed towards the stairs.

Then she saw what he was pointing at.

Edward Nygma lay sprawled across the stairs, glasses askew, completely unconscious.

"Did you push him?"

Oswald turned to her, nose scrunched up in revulsion, "No! Of course not! I was chasing him, and he tripped."

"You were chasing him?"

"Well, sort of. Look, can we discuss this after he's safe? You can help him, right? Like you helped me?"

"Probably," she said, biting her lip, "Medicine is kinda dependent on the injury and the injured party. But I promise I'll do everything I can."

"You'd better."

"C'mon Pengy, let's get him upstairs. I bet we can carry him between us. Once he's in a bed, I'll take a look at him."

Oswald nodded, positioning himself to lift Ed's shoulders as Ivy wrapped her arms around his knees.

"One, two, three, _go_."

It took them about fifteen minutes and a lot of physical stress, but eventually they managed to drag him into the nearest bedroom, which happened to be Oswald's.

"You don't mind?"

"Not as much as I mind carrying him," Oswald snorted, "Or his health..."

"Okay, I'll be right back," Ivy patted his arm, "I've gotta go get my supplies. Stay with him."

Oswald nodded, sitting on the bed beside Ed's body, wrapping his fingers around Ed's as if to anchor him to this world. He didn't know if Ed was in a lot of danger or not, but it didn't matter. He was lying, passed out, in Oswald's bed, and it was all Oswald's fault. Why had he pushed him so far? He'd never wanted to upset Ed, not really. Just to make him realize that Oswald was a part of his life that he shouldn't take for granted.

He ran his thumb across Ed's knuckles, whispering, "Please come back to me, Ed. Please give me another chance to show you what you mean to me."

Ivy strode back inside, pulling a cart full of plants with her.

"Alright, Os, listen up. I'm going to need you to get him up into a sort of sitting position. Or at least leaning. If this is nothing more than a short faint, breathing this in should bring him back," she detailed as she crushed some leaves into a bowl of boiling water.

"And if it doesn't?"

"Then there's not much to do but force-feed him this tea I can make. It won't help him wake up, per se, but it helps to strengthen the brain against brain damage, so his condition won't deteriorate and his body can focus on recovery. The only issue is that it's also a blood-thinner, so... _when_ he wakes up, he'll need a lot of iron."

Oswald nodded, shoving some pillows against his headboard and dragging Ed up as best he could.

Ivy sat on the other side of the bed and began to move the bowl back and forth. They sat in near-silence, the only sounds their breathing and the ticking of a clock, for upwards of ten minutes. Each minute felt like an hour to Oswald as he held Ed's hand and watched his unresponsive form.

"I'm not sure it's going to w - "

Ed twitched on the bed. Oswald sat up straighter, alert, and Ivy set the bowl down gently, placing her hands on his other arm to stop him from jerking awake.

He let out a moan, soft and sad, and his grip tightened around Oswald's hand.

Then his eyes fluttered open and he peered around blearily, unable to see more than blurs without his glasses. Still, a blur was enough for him to recognize the Penguin, and with his free hand he reached out for him.

"O - Osw... "

His hand fell limply to his side and his head began to droop.

"What's going on? Ivy!"

Ivy felt Ed's pulse and checked his eyes, pulling back his eyelids in order to look. She shook her head, "I can't say for sure, but I don't think it's brain damage. I think he's stressed himself out enough that he's given himself a cold. That, and I don't think he has a strong will to live right now. He's not _trying_ to fight it off."

"Ed, you idiot, don't you dare die over her," Oswald hissed at him, not removing his hand from Ed's.

Ivy gave him another pat, "Look, I'll go brew some cold medicine. He'll be waking up intermittently, and I'm sure you can trick him into taking it. And talk to him. I think this is the time to be nice."

Oswald nodded. He was done playing games anyway. Now was the time to do whatever was necessary to save Ed. Even if it meant repeating those same words Ed had once used to save him. Even if it meant lying.

But that would wait until Ed was lucid enough to hear them.

~ ~ ~

"He is going to be alright, isn't he?"

Oswald had requested Friday off as a personal day, but now the weekend was drawing to a close and he knew he'd have to return to work. In other words, he'd have to leave Ed's side.

Ivy stood at the other side of the bed, re-checking Ed's symptoms as she did twice a day at Oswald's behest.

"He'll be fine. I think."

"You think?! You think?!" Oswald began to rise out of his chair. Ivy held up a hand, "Chill, Ozzie, let me finish. He'll recover physically, I'm sure. The fever is only two degrees above average, and it's dropped since yesterday. As long as he drinks a steady supply of medicated tea, the congestion will disappear shortly. Muscle aches and fatigue are simply a matter of time."

"So what's the issue?"

"I told you he: he doesn't have much of a will to live. You should figure out exactly what's been bothering him, try to calm him down. Get in his head and give him some sort of lifeline. And that has to be you, because he doesn't really know me, much less like me. He's not going to trust me enough to let me guide him back."

"And you think he'll trust me? After everything I did to him? I pushed him away, Ivy! I told him he wasn't important, that I was too busy for him!"

Ivy sighed, "Trust me, he'll forgive you."

"But how do you know?"

"I don't," she shook her head with a smile, "But I believe in the two of you. I've been watching you ever since I moved in, and trust me, there's love there. It may be deep, it may be repressed, but it's there."

Oswald shook his head more seriously, "Devotion, perhaps. Gratitude. Loyalty in return for giving him his freedom. But not love. He's intelligent and blunt. If he loved me, he would have told me."

Ivy shrugged, "Let's agree to disagree."

Before Oswald could reply, his attention was drawn, like iron to a powerful magnet, by the sound of Ed stirring in the bed. He'd only woken a few times since his fall, which worried Oswald, but Ivy insisted that sleep was good for the body.

Ed's head rolled to the side as he tried to sit up, finding himself too weak to do so, and he moaned disconsolately. Somewhere in the back of his mind Oswald recognized the sound of the door closing and Ivy's absence, but his focus was entirely on his beloved's distraught form.

"Ed? Ed? How are you feeling?"

Another moan followed his question, this one sounding more pained as Ed tried to form words, "Os... Osw... Oswald? What are you..? Where..?"

"Shh, Ed, don't strain yourself," Oswald was standing at his side in an instant, not even noticing himself get out of the chair. He placed a comforting hand on Ed's shoulder, rubbing his thumb up and down in what he hoped was a soothing motion. The way Ed leaned into his touch indicated that it was.

"I'm here. You're in my room, remember? You fell down the stairs, and this was the closest place to take you. You're heavy," he tried unsuccessfully to lighten the mood, "You've fallen ill."

"I - Is..?"

"Is what, Ed?"

"Isabella... is she..?"

Oswald sighed, tightening his grip on Ed's shoulder involuntarily, letting him go with a cringe when he heard Ed's faint whimper of pain, "I'm sorry. She's dead."

He was apologizing for the grip, not his girlfriend, but at least it made the statement sound sincere. His heart clenched in both sympathy and jealousy as he watched Ed lurch forward to cover his face with his hands as his body became wracked with sobs.

"I.. I _killed_ her," he cried, "I promised I wouldn't, wouldn't screw up, and _I killed her_."

Oswald gaped at him, unsure of what to say. This was news to him. All he had known was that she was dead. He had assumed it had been an accident. People dying suddenly in Gotham was nothing new, he of _all_ people knew that.

But to think... _Ed_ had been the one to take her life. The little skank who had drawn him in, who he had fallen in 'love' with overnight, who he had barely known for two weeks, was dead by his own hands. It almost _was_ poetic.

He turned his attention back to the (gorgeous) man on the bed, bawling into Oswald's frankly expensive sheets. Laying his hand on Ed's back, careful not to hold, just to lay it there, he made quiet shushing noises until Ed's tears had mostly subsided. At least he was quiet now, lying still as he gazed up at Oswald with watery eyes and a tear-stained face.

"They were right: I really am a monster, Oswald. Aren't I?"

Oswald wasn't sure if he was seeking confirmation or denial, but he knew he could give neither. Instead, he answered in a way that he hoped Ed might appreciate: a question.

Reaching down to take Ed's hand in both of his, Oswald met his eyes again and asked, "Am I?"

Ed shook his head as vehemently as one could when ill and exhausted, "No! Oswald, no, you're not. Please don't say that. You're a good man. The best man I've ever known."

"I seriously doubt that, but if _I_ may be excused my sins, why then should you be condemned for ones much lesser?"

"Because," he sniffed, "Because I forced myself into the lives of not one innocent woman but _two_ and now they're both _dead_ , and I didn't even _mean it_. I didn't want to kill Ms. Kringle, and I didn't want to kill Isabella, but I did it anyway! I'm a monster, there's no other explanation."

Well, thought Oswald, you might be a little more terrifying if your nose didn't sound so stuffed up when you talked.

What he _said_ was, "We all make mistakes, Ed. Even fatal ones sometimes. Now do you think you're up to eating something? You haven't had anything but tea for almost three days now. I can make you some soup, if you like?"

"Why?"

"Why what?" Oswald frowned.

"Why would you make me soup? Isabella can never eat soup again and it's all my fault! I shouldn't be allowed soup."

Oswald let out a deep sigh, "Ed. Ed, I have killed _so many_ people. More than you could possibly imagine. Some of them deserved it. Some, I expect, did not. Yet here I am, and I will not deprive myself of things I _want_ , much less things I _need_ , and as both your friend and your employer, I refuse to let you do differently! I'm done letting you drag yourself down by wallowing in self-pity. I will make you soup and you will eat it. That's an order."

"Yes, Mr. Penguin, sir," Ed smiled weakly, although Oswald almost thought he looked relieved. Perhaps orders were what he needed until he could organize his thoughts for himself. Oswald mentally shrugged at that. Orders were easy. He could do that.

When he returned with a bowl of warm, steaming soup, Ed was silent. They didn't speak as Oswald handed the bowl over, only for Ed to nearly spill it all when his hands proved too weak to hold it up. Oswald felt his heart melt just a little as he settled himself on the edge of the bed to spoon-feed a very embarrassed but even more ravenous Ed.

Still they said nothing. Ed, too exhausted to think, and Oswald, too enthralled by the sight of Ed's lips wrapped around the spoon in his hand, or the way his throat moved when he swallowed.

Once the bowl was empty, Oswald set it aside, running one hand through Ed's sweat-slick hair and pretending it was a perfectly normal, concerned-friend sort of gesture.

"You should get some more rest. You're still fighting off the cold."

Ed nodded, falling back onto the pillows and letting his eyes slip shut. Soon his breathing evened out and Oswald let his hand stray back into Ed's hair, petting gently as his gaze dropped to his lap. He felt so many things about Ed's current predicament: fear for his love's well-being, anger at himself for being unable to help, and worry that he may have had a hand in causing Ed's breakdown.

It was easy, he supposed, to blame Ed for everything that had happened between them. Or Isabella. Or even Ivy. And Oswald liked easy. Easy had allowed him to knock off Maroni's best friend. Easy had let him lie to his mother about his lifestyle. Easy had told him to use Butch to save his mother even though he was too conveniently trustworthy.

Where exactly _had_ easy gotten him?

Nearly killed, disappointing his mother, and his mother _actually_ killed.

So much of his life had been hard that easy was too tempting. But with all the evidence of his past failures weighing on him so heavily, how could he allow himself to risk Ed for _easy_? That, in retrospect, had been Ivy's point about not killing Ed's girlfriend.

Well, he was glad of it now. It would have been _easy_. And if her death had Ed this broken up, he would certainly have suffered should Ed have ever discovered his involvement.

In fact, he could hardly think of a better outcome than her death at Ed's hands. What were the chances of a logical man like Ed risking a _third_ woman? He might not be _Oswald's_ , but he certainly wouldn't be anyone else's.

Ed shifted on the bed, nuzzling into his hand in the process and Oswald felt himself die just a little inside. Oh how he wanted that forever.

Looking over the fever-heated skin of his dearest love, eyes catching on the tear tracks and the scars poking out from the collar of the pajamas they'd wrestled him into, scars which Oswald wished he had the courage to ask about, Oswald felt tears spring up in his own eyes. One caught on his eyelashes and dropped down as he stood, leaning over Ed and pulling the blankets back up to his chin.

Before he lost his determination, Oswald leaned even further down to press his lips lightly on his chief of staff's forehead, near his hairline. He straightened his back and moved to the lamp, clicking it off.

" _Sleep well, Ed. Get better soon, my love_ ," he whispered into the dark room.

Finally he forced himself to leave. He needed a long bath if there was a chance in hell of his looking presentable at work tomorrow.

~ ~ ~

Two weeks later, Ed was awake most days. Sullen and depressed, yes, but awake and able to converse.

"Oswald?" he asked one day, unable to see far enough to determine if the other man was in the room. Oswald materialized at his side in an instant, "Yes? What is it?"

"Why are you trying to cure me? I'm broken and weak and there's nothing left for me anyway. Just let me die, please. I'm of no use to you."

Oswald rolled his eyes fondly, patting Ed's hand where it lay on the bed, "Ed, you know that isn't true. _I'm_ here for you, and so is my empire. You can have any position you want. And as for being weak and useless? You said it yourself: for us, love will always be our greatest weakness. I know it hurts that your girlfriend is dead, but think about it: now you are stronger than ever. 'A man with nothing he loves is a man that cannot be bargained. A man who answers to no one but himself'. See?"

Ed nodded, not meeting his eyes, before his hand suddenly flipped over, grabbing for Oswald's.

"Please, I know what I have to do. Please send me away."

"What?"

"Give me a mission far away. I'm a danger to you, and you're the only person I have left. I'm too much of a coward to go on my own, so _please_ send me away. I want to be helpful, but I don't want to be a risk to you. You may have gotten me out of Arkham, but you know better than I that I'm not stable. Please."

"Ed," Oswald shook his head, "You're not a danger to me. If you don't want to stay, then I will, but you of all people should know... I mean, I _taught_ you everything you know about killing. And think about how many people have tried to kill me. I'm simply terrible at dying. And if killers with three, four, five times more experience than you couldn't off me on purpose, what on Earth makes you think you could do it on accident? You are not a danger to anyone who _truly_ knows you, only to those that presume to."

Ed frowned, looking like he wanted to argue, but he couldn't. His gaze dropped to their intertwined figners and his frown morphed into something else, something unreadable.

"Oswald?"

"Yes?"

"I think I'd like to sleep now. Wake me for breakfast. I could use some pancakes."

Oswald couldn't bring himself to smile, although he felt relieved at the reassurance that Ed would not try anything foolish like running away. He closed his bedroom door on the way out, leaving just a crack, and made his way down to the kitchen, sinking onto a bar stool at the island counter.

"So we never did talk about what happened, huh," Ivy said, coming up behind him and taking the seat next to his.

"What is there to say?"

"How'd he fall? You mentioned chasing him?"

"I... I took your advice, Ivy," Oswald said, peering into the glass of tomato juice she'd plopped in front of him, "I told him 'no'. That I didn't have the time for his problems. I told him to ask his girlfriend and get out. But... on his way out, he said that he couldn't because his girlfriend was dead. And then he just... _ran_. I tried to catch up to him, because that was a bigger deal than I thought, but he turned to look at me and he... he tripped. There was nothing I could do."

Ivy nodded, "It's not your fault, Ozzie. You couldn't have known."

He sighed, "I know."

"Then why so down?"

Oswald shrugged, taking a gulp of the thick, sharp juice, "He was depressed. Looked like I did, after my mother died. So I told him what he told me. And it worked. Which means I really don't have a chance with him anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"He told me that love was a weakness. It helped me then and it's helping him now. But if that's the thought keeping him alive, there isn't a chance in hell he'll fall in love with me. I saved his life by ruining my own. At least I still have my criminal empire. And my legitimate one."

"And me."

"And you."

Ivy nudged his shoulder with her own, "Don't give up hope yet. After all, didn't you just say that it was those words that saved _your_ life? And now look at you!"

"Yeah," Oswald said, sounding completely unconvinced, "Sure."

Ivy frowned at him, "You'll see."

"I'm going to make pancakes for breakfast. Can you bring them to Ed when they're done? I need to think of something to say before I see him again, so that I don't accidentally blurt out what I'm thinking."

"Uh huh," she side-eyed him, but he made a point of ignoring her.

As he stalked off to retrieve the ingredients, she muttered to herself, "We'll see about that. First things first, though. Determine where Ed stands."

~ ~ ~

While Oswald was occupied with the pancakes, Ivy snuck up to Oswald's room. The door was ever so slightly ajar and she pressed up against the wall, ears straining to hear the mumbled words coming from within.

"Didn't you hear him? Love is a weakness. Your own words."

"But it's not fair! Everything finally makes sense, now. Why I felt compelled to tell him that riddle. Why I did so much for him. Why that night on the couch made me feel like flying. Why I felt disappointed when he hugged me. I've been in love with him since he stayed at my apartment and I didn't realize it until I held his hand. Why would something so small set off what everything else couldn't?"

"Because he was worried about you. And not as his Chief of Staff. Besides, all those people who said you didn't know what love felt like? They were right."

"But Kristen. Isabella."

"Really? Didn't you notice how exhausted being with them made you feel? How much you had to push yourself for them? How uncomfortable you often got? No, that wasn't love. This thing with Oswald? This total trust and security? That's love. But it's too late. Not that he necessarily would have loved you before, anyway."

"It's just not fair..."

Outside the door, Ivy grinned. Perfect. She knew what she needed to do now. Ed was convinced that Oswald didn't love him. Oswald was convinced that Ed _wouldn't_ love him. All she had to do was tip the scales a little, give one of them the confidence to confess to the other.

And she knew exactly how to do it.

~ ~ ~

"Tray all ready?" she asked, skidding into the kitchen on her socks. Oswald frowned at her, "You're going to put holes in those."

"And then you can replace them, 'cause you're _rich_!" she leaned over and pecked him on the cheek, snatching the tray from under his hands where he had been fussing with it, trying to set the plate perfectly in the center.

"Don't forget that you need to eat, too," she called back over her shoulder, forcing herself to contain her energy now that the food was in her hands. It wouldn't do to spill it and ruin things _now_.

She stopped by her own room on the way (well, not _exactly_ on the way, but close enough) to Oswald's, grabbing a tiny vase of flowers and the card. Balancing them on the corner of the tray, she made her way to Oswald's door and knocked, two light taps.

"Come in," Ed's voice was still rough, still weak, but stronger than it had been a few days ago. She pushed the door open with her foot and approached the bed.

Ed's head was down, eyes trained on a book in his hands, and Ivy frowned.

"Look I know you're smart, so maybe that's just your thing, but anyone would think you're faking, reading upside down like that."

He dropped the book and looked up, "Oh, it's just you."

"Thanks," she rolled her eyes, "Here, I brought breakfast. Oh, and take this," she dropped a small white pill beside the glass of orange juice, "For your blood."

Ed nodded, taking hold of the tray. His eyes strayed to the flowers in the corner, "What's that?"

"Uh, flowers? Duh? Or did you mean what kind, because those are violets."

"No, I meant why are they there?"

Ivy shrugged, "I dunno. Ozzie put a lot of effort into making it look good. He probably thought you could use something to cheer you up."

She stifled a giggle as she watched the confused frown on his face smooth back into a sort of bemused delight, like he couldn't imagine someone being so nice as to try to cheer him up. He looked utterly lovestruck.

Running one finger gently over a petal he smiled down at it, "That's so sweet."

"Yeah, I know."

He glanced up, face instantly shifting back to neutral as he realized she was still standing there, "Tell Oswald thank you for me."

"You got it," she winked and did double finger guns at him, all but dancing out the door. Oh things were going _so_ well. She couldn't wait for Ed to read the note. She wished she could see his face when he did, but he probably wouldn't read it if she was in the room. Instead, she scampered back to the kitchen where Oswald was poking forlornly at his own pile of pancakes.

Ivy snatched the one off the top, rather than getting her own from the stove, for the intended effect of snapping Oswald out of it.

"Hey! That was mine!"

"Well, you didn't seem to be doing anything with it," she smirked around a gigantic bite, "You see, pancakes are like lovers. You gotta treat 'em right - which in the case of pancakes means eat 'em right, although depending on your use of the word I suppose you could mean that about lovers too - or somebody else'll steal 'em."

"You are fifteen _years old!_ You are _not_ old enough to be giving that sort of advice to _anyone_!"

"Geez, Pengy, keep your voice down. You sound like a pissed off cat. And not my friend. Although she can sound like that, too."

Oswald dropped his face into his hands, "Is this what all girls your age are like, or are you just special?"

"Yes," Ivy said definitively, licking the syrup off her fingers.

He groaned in frustration, "I do not understand, and - please," he held up his hand to stop her impending explanation, "I don't particularly care to."

"You'll learn to appreciate my efforts some day," she grinned, thoughts still on the card. Had Ed read it yet? What did he think? Was he already planning something elaborate? This was turning out to be so much more fun than she'd expected!

"That shall be a truly terrifying day indeed."

"Mhmm," she nodded, "And probably sooner than you think!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Ivy glanced at the ceiling, "Oh, nothing."

~ ~ ~

Ever since he'd been confined to Oswald's bed, Ed had begun to notice things that had somehow slipped his attention before. Things like the way Oswald hovered around him, fussing over the tiniest problems. Things like how comfortable he felt, despite being ill, in Oswald's bed, surrounded by his scent. Things like how nice Oswald's smile was. Little things.

Little things that paved the way to something much bigger.

He'd tried to get Oswald to send him away, but he hadn't been able to sell it. He was too desperate to stay, and it must have shown through. Perhaps if he had told Oswald what exactly happened between him and Isabella, he would have taken Ed's advice and gotten him as far out of his way as possible.

But Oswald had also countered his concerns, assuring him that he wouldn't be as easy to kill as the others had been. And while, in a way, Ed was still sure deep down that he was destined to kill everyone he loves, he knew Oswald had a point. Kristen and Isabella weren't killers like him. Oswald was.

He looked down and away, trying to decide who was right, when his gaze caught on Oswald's hand. It was holding his own, their fingers woven together as if they belonged.

And then his own prior thought hit him like a cement truck.

_Everyone he loves._

_Loves._

Oh god. He loved Oswald. He was _in love with_ Oswald.

Oswald, who was always so kind to him, especially when he needed it the most. Oswald who could kill a man without ever even looking at him. Oswald who could look Death in the eye and laugh, because he'd done it before and he'd do it again.

Oswald who was so far above Ed, it was a wonder he even noticed him at all. Oswald who was stronger alone, without any dead-weight to always be worrying about. Oswald who had never shown any inclination of romantic interest in anyone.

Oh dear.

 _That would explain the fever dream of Oswald kissing me and calling me 'my love'_. His subconscious had always been better at recognizing his desires and had often been responsible for bringing them to light.

Now that he had discovered these desires though, the realizations were piling up too fast, memories flooding his mind, each seen in a new light. The couch, the riddle, the origami penguin, visiting Gertrude's grave when Oswald couldn't, singing a duet in a cramped but comfortable one-room apartment, ordering takeout and kidnapping a lackey as a present.

_That far back?_

Oh dear.

He needed to get Oswald out of the room so he could think.

"Oswald?"

"Yes?"

He sounded so concerned, like he cared. Ed felt his heart start beating faster, even as his body felt fuzzy, as if Oswald's care was a soft blanket wrapped around him, keeping him safe.

"I think I'd like to sleep now," he lied, hoping Oswald would buy it, "Wake me for breakfast. I could use some pancakes."

Okay, so maybe he wasn't the best liar. But at least Oswald seemed to accept his statement and leave. A part of Edward screamed to call him back, make him stay. Preferably forever. But Ed knew he needed to reason this out with himself.

Once Oswald's footsteps had disappeared, Ed waited a reasonable amount of time to begin debating. He bantered back and forth with himself, articulating his feelings in order to better understand them.

Finally he reached a conclusion.

 _I can't tell him. But I can't leave him either._ He felt his fingers curl into fists as a physical sign of his determination. No, he would be there for Oswald in everything from now until the day he died. He would do everything a good partner should do, without any of the reward. Because while he didn't deserve love, Oswald did. Oswald just didn't need to know that it was love that motivated his actions.

To have Oswald care about him, in any capacity, would be enough.

A knock on the door startled him out of his thoughts. Had it really been that long?

It must have, since he could smell his breakfast from here. There really were pancakes. Amazing. Hastily grabbing a book from the bedside table, he ducked his head, pretending to read. He may have just decided to give himself completely to Oswald, but with thoughts of love still swirling around the forefront of his mind, it would be too risky to make eye contact. There's no telling what he might say while under the spell of Oswald's sea-green gaze.

"Look I know you're smart, so maybe that's just your thing, but anyone would think you're faking, reading upside down like that."

His head snapped up as his fingers lost their grip on the book. He glanced at it to discover that the girl was right. He had been 'reading' upside down. Ed took a deep breath. At least it hadn't been Oswald who had seen. There's no way it would have slipped his notice, and he probably would have inquired after what's _wrong_. And then Ed would have had to die on the spot because as embarrassing as being caught by Ivy was, that would have been so much worse.

"Oh, it's just you."

She gave him an exaggerated insulted look and muttered, "Thanks," with an eye roll and everything.

She kept talking as she handed him an iron pill, which he downed with the orange juice. He'd elected to take the mind-strengthening tea regardless, once he'd been awake enough to answer.

Looking over the beautifully arranged tray, his eyes were drawn to the splash of color in the corner. A tiny vase filled with violets.

He frowned. Why would that be there?

"What's that?"

"Uh, flowers? Duh? Or did you mean what kind, because those are violets."

"No, I meant why are they there?"

The girl shrugged, "I dunno. Ozzie put a lot of effort into making it look good. He probably thought you could use something to cheer you up."

Oswald had done this? Oswald wanted him to have flowers? Oswald wanted to cheer him up? He felt his heart fluttering against his ribs as he failed to stop a touched smile spread across his face. No one had ever given him flowers before. Oswald was so thoughtful. He felt a dull ache behind his sternum that he easily identified as longing. He pushed it down. He didn't deserve what Oswald _did_ give him, much less have a right to want more.

He reached out with one finger and traced over a soft, purple petal, finding comfort in its delicate beauty.

"That's so sweet."

"Yeah, I know."

He jumped. He hadn't realized the girl was still in the room. Thinking of a tactful way to dismiss her, he said, "Tell Oswald thank you for me."

She mimed shooting him with her fingers, but Ed took the gesture to be one of camaraderie, not a threat, and assured him she would, thankfully leaving. He felt a pressure behind his eyes as he looked over the delicious-smelling golden pancakes and the precious miniature bouquet. Why would anyone be this nice to him? It was like a dream come true, but he didn't know _why_ it had happened in the first place.

Ed was never good at not looking a gift horse in the mouth, and he knew it.

But he could investigate after he ate. Why waste good pancakes?

As he reached down to pick up his knife and fork, he felt his fingers brush against something odd. Something like card stock.

With another frown, he retrieved the card, which had been folded once through the middle. Unfolding it, he felt his stomach do a back-flip as his eyes scanned the cut-and-pasted letters from a variety of newspapers and magazines forming words he hadn't even dared to dream.

my de are st ed w ard  
Please ac cept THESE flow er S as a T ok en of my affect ion s  
I have tried time & again to tell you how I feel, but I know now that I can NOT say the w or d s without know ing that you will say them back.  
your s if you will have me ,  
O sw al D

No, this wasn't possible. He shook his head. Oswald couldn't love him back. It didn't make any sense. It wasn't right. It wasn't allowed. He wasn't supposed to get anything in return for being Oswald's. How else could he prove that he deserved to be at his side? Oswald couldn't possibly love him, because he hadn't earned it yet.

Then his brain kicked into gear and he noticed what he hadn't before. The cut-and-paste format. Of course. If Oswald was going to leave him a note, he would have hand-written it. Oswald hated things being impersonal if they didn't have to be. The only reason he would have given Ed a love letter ransom-note style is if Oswald didn't have Oswald's handwriting.

Or rather, if _Ivy_ didn't.

His hand clenched around the card, crumpling it, and he bit his lip to hold back new tears, these of anger rather than joy. She must have overheard him somehow. How _dare_ she? How dare she mock him this way? What was she playing at? Had she been trying to trick him into confessing his feelings? For what purpose? To get Oswald to send him away? For her own amusement? Why?

With significantly less enthusiasm (and appetite) than before, Ed dug into his breakfast. The pancakes really were divine, and he wished he were in a mood to enjoy them.

His eyes strayed back to the flowers, narrowing as he analyzed them. Ivy had said that Oswald put them there, and she had seemed convincing. But then again, Ivy had also left him a fake love confession from Oswald, so he really had no idea what the girl was capable of. He felt a sort of hollowness in his chest as his brain immediately accepted that the flowers had been a part of Ivy's ruse, and his face began to heat up when he recalled his reaction to them. How she must be laughing at him...

Oh god, what if she told Oswald?

No, no she wouldn't. She wanted _him_ to tell Oswald after all, that would be counterproductive.

He let out a short breath, feeling about as relieved as one can be when one's deepest emotions are being mocked by another.

He would simply have to confront her about it, and ignore her taunts if she kept them up. There wasn't much he could do to her, anyway. Oswald had been very clear about where Ivy stood in his regard.

Wiping what little stickiness had gotten on his hands onto the napkin, Ed decided he was done lying around waiting. He'd been confined to his - well, _Oswald's_ \- bed for two weeks now, and now that he could function again, he couldn't let this pampering continue. It wasn't right.

Shoving the note into a pocket in his robe and setting the flowers on the night-table, Ed picked up the tray full of dirty dishes and made his way to the door. Heading down the hallway, Ed took extra care on the stairs. He could not afford a repeat of the last time he'd been on them. That would make him a liability.

As he approached the kitchen, he heard both Oswald's and Ivy's voices, arguing, but with a certain degree of playfulness in their tones. When he reached the doorway, Oswald saw him before he could announce himself. Dropping the butter knife he had been using to threaten Ivy, he rushed to Ed's side.

"Ed? What are you doing out of bed?"

"I'm fine, Oswald," he shook his head, sending a glance towards Ivy, "I was wondering - "

Ivy cleared her throat rather pointedly, trying to slip past him and out the door, "I'll just go... water some plants."

"Actually, I was wondering if I could speak with you, Ivy. In private?"

Oswald blinked at him, taken aback. Ivy also looked concerned. She pointed at herself, as if in clarification, "Me?"

"Yes," he turned to Oswald, "No threats, I promise."

Oswald couldn't seem to figure out what he wanted to say, but he managed to nod and step out of the room. Ivy was frowning now, brows drawn together in confusion, "But - ?"

Ed shook his head, dragging her over to the walk-in pantry and shutting the door.

"What's going on?"

Ed pulled the card out of his pocket and shook it in her face, "What is the meaning of this?"

Ivy's eyes grew big as she peered at it, giving an over-dramatic gasp, "Ozzie confessed to you? I thought he'd given up!"

With a growl Ed smashed the note in a fist again, "Stop pretending like it was him! I know you wrote this! What I don't know is why. So _why_?"

Ivy swallowed and took a step backwards, raising her hands defensively, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean anything by it, well not really. I really thought you'd buy it. Oswald said nobody could trace those notes back to me!"

Ed rolled his eyes, "Not unless you make it obvious. It wasn't hard to figure out that Oswald hadn't sent it, so it was simple deduction. Olga wouldn't bother, and besides, I know she has the day off. Who else is there?"

"Oh. I didn't think about that," she pouted, "But how did you know it wasn't Oswald?"

"Because how could it be? I'm well aware of the fact that he doesn't return my feelings, and I'm okay with that. Besides, Oswald would have handwritten a note like this if he actually meant it."

Ivy was looking at him with raised eyebrows, like she wasn't quite sure if he was joking or not, "You're kidding, right?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You want to know why I did that?"

"Yes! I would very much like to know - "

"It's because you two are super frickin' dumb!"

Ed blinked, too astonished to feel properly insulted, "Excuse me?"

"Ugh, I haven't even lived here a month and I'm already so done with watching you guys. And I thought, 'Gee, wouldn't it be nice if somebody did something to push these idiots together?' But apparently even that won't work because the both of you are so wrapped up in how you're supposedly destined to be alone."

That... that couldn't be right. Ed shook his head, "You must be mistaken. How could Oswald love me when I haven't done anything to deserve it yet?"

Ivy's jaw dropped and she cocked her head, trying to see if maybe this would all make sense sideways.

"Now you're definitely kidding me. Did you or did you not risk your life to show Oswald that the people of Gotham wanted him as mayor? Did you or did you not risk your life to expose that Red Hood dude? Butch or whatever? Did you or did you not risk your life to save Oswald when he'd given up? Or were those all just fever dreams that Oswald told me about when he was recovering from a beating at my house?"

Ed shook his head harder, "No, no, that was just repaying him for... for... getting me out of Arkham. And giving me a place to stay. And a job. And a friend. I turned him away when _he_ got out of Arkham and he was brainwashed. I wasn't there for him. I had to make it up to him. I - "

"Incidentally, do you want to know why he almost died in an alleyway that night? I know he never told you."

Ed paused. This wasn't answering the questions that were burning through him, but it was something he'd been wondering since the day he'd accidentally seen those bruises. He nodded.

"I found him in that alley when I was out searching for one of the stashes of mushrooms I'd left around the city from back when I worked for the gangs. He was unconscious and at first I thought he was dead. Nobody much cares about dead homeless guys, so I figured it would be better for both of us if his body was used to help my plants grow. But when I dragged him back to my current place, I realized he was still breathing. So I put some of my plants to the test and tried my best to heal him. It worked.

He woke up and that was when I recognized him. So I asked what the mayor was doing wandering around a bad part of town without any guards in the middle of the night. He told me that he wanted to clear his head and he couldn't do that with a bunch of hired muscle hanging around and making his head hurt. I asked him what he wanted to think about so badly, and he told me that he had finally found his true love. But when I congratulated him, he laughed. And it wasn't a nice laugh. He said that he'd never felt that way about anyone before, so he didn't know what to do, or say. He'd figured out how to tell him at last, only to be blown off in favor of some strange girl. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want to lose you, but he hated having to listen to you wax poetic about someone you barely knew.

So that's why his life needed saving. He was so in love with you, and so hurt by how quick you jumped on the opportunity to leave him, that he went out walking at night without any sort of protection at all. Don't you see? He's head over heels in love with you, and the only reason he hasn't offered you his heart on a golden platter is because he doesn't think there's a chance you could possibly love him back."

Ed balks, "Why would he think that?"

"Well," Ivy ticked off the points on her fingers, "No one's ever loved him romantically before, he can come off as really confident but he has just as many self-esteem issues as you, he literally told you love was a weakness in an attempt to heal your mental breakdown, oh, and he probably thinks you're straight."

Ed felt his jaw moving but no words were coming out. He closed it and frowned, trying to think of something to say, some way to argue against Ivy's heap of evidence that Oswald really did love him.

"Look, I get it. You're so scared you almost don't want it to be real, because if it's real, then you can fuck it up. I get it," she cautiously reached out, laying a hand on his arm when he didn't move away.

Ed looked at her, confusion clear in his brown eyes, "How?"

"Because I feel that way, too. Oswald is like a cool big brother. He's rich and powerful and for some reason he likes me. Yeah, I saved his life, but he could have just given me some cash and moved on. But no, he talks to me, buys me stuff, teaches me how to do cool things. He even tries to protect me from people who might try to hurt me."

"Like me?"

"Maybe," she shrugged, "But the point is, he's given me so much more than anyone I've ever known. More than anything I've ever had. And I can't help but be terrified of that, because what if someday I do something and he decides I'm not worth it? In a way, it's better to have nothing, because then you don't have to worry that someone's going to take it all away from you."

Ed studied her. He seemed to be seeing everyone in new lights today.

"Maybe that's just how it is for people like us."

Ivy frowned again, "How do you mean?"

"I never told you - I never told anyone, actually, but you once falsely accused me of something," Ed wasn't quite sure why he _was_ telling her this, but he supposed it was because she would understand, "You said you wouldn't expect me to understand that you didn't like your surname."

She looked upwards, trying to recall the conversation before it clicked, "Yeah. The first morning I stayed here. What of it?"

"Surely you didn't think my last name was really 'Nygma', did you?"

She shrugged, "I never really thought about it."

"I'm not sure anyone ever did. It was supposed to be clever. E Nygma. I was so proud of myself for that. But no one ever got it. The name I was born with is Nashton. It took me sixteen years and seven months to escape that name, but this is the first time I've said it since. You said you don't know if you'd like to thank Gordon for killing your parents or kill him yourself. Similarly, I don't know if I want to know if mine are still alive or not.

So maybe this whole fear thing comes out of that. We are more used to fixing mistakes than getting rewards, and what rewards we did get, we had to work to earn. Oswald is used to freely getting things, so he tries to freely give them, like his mother did, but he doesn't get that we haven't earned them yet, so how can we take them? Because it hasn't even crossed his mind that the last time someone gave me something, I was beaten for it. So I _can't_ let him give me things."

"Even love," Ivy nodded, sighing. No wonder things weren't working between them. She slowly rubbed her hand up and down his arm, "I'm sorry I tried to trick you. I was hoping you just needed to see that your feelings were returned and then you could confess to him and then _he'd_ know the same about you and everything could be good. Clearly I need a better plan."

"What?" Ed frowned at her, "What are you talking about?"

"Well, Oswald is convinced you don't love him, and you _can't_ let him love you, not until you've earned it, so it's obvious."

"What's obvious?"

"I need to help you earn it."

~ ~ ~

Oswald paced back and forth in the dining room. Ed and Ivy had been talking for a long time. What could they possibly be discussing? And why wasn't Ed resting? He wasn't sure which one of them he should be more worried about at this point.

He also hoped this didn't have anything to do with Ivy's earlier teasing. That girl was going to get in trouble with her little games one of these days.

He prayed that it wouldn't be Ed that she got in trouble with. It had been easy to lecture him before, but when it came down to it? Could Oswald really choose between the two? Ivy, who had become so much like a sister to him, and Ed, who was the love of his life?

So he paced back and forth, hoping that they wouldn't put him in that position.

Should he check on them?

He glanced at his watch, letting out a huff of air. It had been twenty minutes. Twenty-two, actually.

Oswald took a step in the direction of the kitchen, finally making up his mind to see what was going on. He could hear their voices, and felt a wave of relief crash over his body as he realized their tones were calm. Friendly, even.

He walked into the kitchen and stopped short. For a couple of reasons.

For one, he needed to appreciate how good Ed looked with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

For another, he had never expected to see Ed and Ivy standing side by side washing the dishes.

He coughed and they both turned to look at him.

"Can I assume your private chat is over? I'm free to use my kitchen once more?"

Ivy nodded, "Sure thing, Ozzie. Eddie and I were just cleaning up, right?"

"Yep," Ed flashed him a brilliant smile that made Oswald's heart flutter despite how suspicious he felt.

"So I take it you're feeling better?" he tried. Ed gave a half shrug, turning back to the pan he was scrubbing, "I still have a bit of a cough, but mostly when I get up in the morning. I thought I'd make us dinner tonight, since you were so kind as to make breakfast."

"Ed, I made breakfast because I wanted to."

"Well maybe I want to make dinner."

Oswald thought about that. He guessed it made sense.

"And I anonymously leaked a semi-legal recording of those meetings you've been having with the transportation advisors to the tv station that's been the most supportive of your campaign. I know you've been struggling to convince them to spend as much money as that project will take, but it'll be a lot easier once the people hear some of the things they've said in those meetings, don't you think?"

"Ed," Oswald blinked, "You're supposed to be taking a couple weeks of sick days. Why are you working?"

"I'm not," Ed insisted, "I enjoy helping you. Truly. You give so much. Let us give something back."

"Us?" Oswald asked, glancing between them. Ivy nodded, accepting the pan from Ed to dry, "Mhmm. We're on the same page, now. So this weekend you're going to let _us_ spoil _you_ for once. Got it?"

Oswald sank into one of the kitchen chairs, a little overwhelmed by the vehemence with which Ivy spoke, "I - I guess."

"Good," Ed added, letting the water out of the drain and rinsing the rest of the soap and food debris down after it.

~ ~ ~

When Oswald left for work, Ed and Ivy immediately began conspiring.

"Okay, so one time when he was drunk, he told me he kept his mother's recipes in a leather-bound book somewhere in his bedroom. Do you wanna go look for that or do you wanna go out and pick up everything else?"

"Everything else?"

"Yeah, sure, we're going to need that old record and player from your apartment, you know, the one you played when he was there? And a movie. You know, he pretends he doesn't, but he told me a _different_ time when he was drunk that he really likes rom-coms. Ooh, what about Kate  & Leopold? I saw that one once, at Barbara's place. I bet he'd like it. And of course we'll need popcorn - the good kind, you know, with the cheese and the caramel? - and probably wine, as well. And that's just for this evening. Tomorrow we'll let him sleep in and then we can take him out clothes shopping. He loves that. If he tries to dress you up, let him. It'll be for him, not you, and you know how he feels about your style as it is... Then we can have a quiet night in playing board games and stuff. He lives for that family vibe, you know. And then on Sunday, we'll head out to the zoo, which is where I'll ditch you, 'k? I'll tell him I saw Cat and wanted to hang out. Then you two go home and you cook another meal for him. Then you can offer to massage his leg or give him a bath or something. Make it all about him. That way you can feel like you've earned it, if he tells you, right?"

Ed nodded. Tonight would make up for Oswald taking care of him while he was sick, and tomorrow would make up for Ed hurting Oswald prior to that, leaving the playing field clear on Sunday so he could properly earn Oswald's love, assuming he really did love him. And if Ivy was delusional and he didn't, then it would still be okay because Ed loved Oswald and Oswald deserved his adoration and devotion anyway.

"So which do you wanna do, find the book or get the stuff?"

"Find the book," Ed said firmly, "Last time I went out to buy something for Oswald, I ended up hurting him, and others, so I think I'll stay in. You do have a fake ID to buy the wine, right?"

"Of course, I live with the Penguin, silly," she pulled out the ID and waved it, "But he wouldn't give me a driver's license. Said I'm too reckless," she pouted.

"Don't worry about it, he's got plenty of chauffeurs. I lost my license when I went to Arkham, you know."

"Really?"

"Yeah. A lot of things slide in Gotham, but not, apparently, a not-actually-crazy person being allowed to drive."

He shook his head. Driving had been useful, but never particularly enjoyable. Statistics of car accidents and the fact that his head was too busy to ever focus entirely on one task meant that driving caused him a lot of anxiety. It still irritated him to lose it, though. Especially considering he was not insane.

Ed made his way up to the room he'd been staying in these last two weeks. Where had Oswald stayed, he finally wondered. A guest room, no doubt. He stripped the bed of its sheets, throwing them in a bin to be washed. Selfishly he wished he could leave them there, knowing scent was the strongest sense for memory. That perhaps if he could smell Ed when he fell asleep, Oswald would dream about him.

But he had been sick and he was not going to let Oswald get sick, too, just for the sake of his fantasies.

He turned instead to the drawers in the night-tables, searching for the book of recipes. The first drawer was boring, containing a gun, some cash, and a few rings. The second had Ed gasping, as he saw a familiar paper penguin tucked away next to a photo album. Unable to resist, Ed pulled it out, flipping through it.

He smiled at the sight of a tiny Oswald, dressed in equally tiny suits. In some pictures he was standing alone, shoulders straight as he smiled at the camera. In others he was lounging in a large old armchair, laughing at something or other. Some photos were of his mother, instead, who always posed for the picture. About two-thirds of the way through, the pictures changed, becoming more high quality. These were of his father, sometimes both of them. One particular photo looked like it had been mangled, three gaping holes carved out of it. He flipped to the last two pages and nearly dropped the book. His own face was looking up at him, some photos clearly cut out of magazines, but at least one that seemed to have been taken at the mansion. He'd never noticed. Beside it were a few of Ivy, standing in a decrepit place he supposed to be her last safe house.

Shutting the book, he paused, his finger tracing the engraved silver of the loopy letters on the front.

_Family._

A tear landed on the back of his hand and he blinked. He hadn't realized he was crying. He'd never been a part of a real family before. But there he was, right beside Oswald's mother and father, and not because he had forced his way there, not because he had pushed himself there unwanted. No, he was there because Oswald put him there.

He wasn't sure what to do with that feeling.

He knew now that the love he felt for Kristen and Isabella was not as pure as the love he felt for Oswald, but even so... He'd fought for Kristen. Pursued her, courted her, killed for her even. And Isabella had always been demanding, giving him clear commands to follow for the reward she then bestowed.

Oswald hadn't said a word. He'd simply let Ed in before Ed even had the chance to ask.

He didn't know what to do.

Well, no, that wasn't quite true. He knew exactly what to do. And with Ivy's help, he was going to damn well do it.

Ed gently replaced the album to its rightful place and threw himself back into the task of finding the cookbook.

~ ~ ~

Oswald sighed as he sank into the comfortable seat at the back of his limousine. The day had been trying, although marvelously successful. Oswald supposed he had Ed to thank for both. Work with his Chief of Staff preoccupied by some girl was bad enough - work without him was hell.

But he also had Ed to thank for that trick with the recordings. From what he had heard, the transportation department's phones hadn't had a break all day, what with an endless slew of citizens calling to demand to know what exactly Mr. Garin meant by, "people only count as much as they cough up. A two dollar person deserves two dollar service," or who Mrs. Greene was referring to when she said, "those positions are meant to be available only to the few. We put our friends' kids' jobs at risk and they might not be so friendly anymore."

Oswald had been stopped no fewer than sixteen times during his lunch break by people congratulating him on standing up for them. Well, he mused, it was easier to turn down bribes when one inherited a large fortune _and_ ran the criminal underground. _Especially_ when one remembers what it's like to be poor.

By the end of the day, only three people were holding back on the proposal, and efforts to find funding were already underway. Oswald was even pleasantly surprised when one councilwoman proposed a charity walk going from station to station with the double purposes of making money and showing how far it would be to have to walk each day. He took note of her name as a potential future ally. He could use more creative thinkers (and subtle smart-asses, remembering how she had suggested that one of the opposing advisors was only holding back because he didn't think he'd be able to make it) like that on his side.

But now the day was finally over and he could head home to whatever surprise awaited him. He had been shocked to see Ed and Ivy getting along so well, moreso when they'd revealed it was all for _him_. He didn't know why they felt the need to do something for him, but he wasn't about to complain.

His thoughts strayed back to Ed, where they often stayed. He was glad Ed was getting better. It had been painful to watch him sniffle and sneeze and hack, looking so miserable while Oswald could do nothing to help. And underneath it all was that dreadful look in his eyes, dull and depressed, like he was being being rightfully punished for his sins. Oswald added 'guilty' to his list of emotions, knowing that that Isabelle girl's death was tearing his love apart, but being unable to stop feeling happy about it.

Now he just needed to figure out how soon was too soon to confess his love to Ed. He pulled out his phone to text Ivy. That girl was full of ideas.

[Tonight is too soon to tell him, isn't it.]

He didn't have to wait long for her reply.

{Yes. I would try Sunday, if I were u}

{give him time to spoil u first.}

Oswald frowned.

[I wouldn't want him to think I felt obligated...]

{LMAO. That's like the opposite of how he thinks}

{ohhh....}

{that's how YOU think}

{sorry, gotta go, something important just popped up}

{see u for dinner}

Oswald shook his head. That girl. My god, he thought, she and Ed are working together now. How terrifying. All that energy...

He suddenly felt a little apprehensive about his upcoming weekend.

~ ~ ~

"Hey Ed," Ivy poked her head around the door, "Watcha doing?"

"Working," he replied, the answer being completely unsatisfactory, "Everything's ready for dinner, so I figured I'd get a head start on another surprise."

She peered down at the paper-coverd table, "Huh. Cool. So, um, hey, I was just texting Pengy and I think I figured out why you two aren't able to communicate. I mean, we covered _your_ reasons this morning, but I think I just found one of his."

"Oh?" Ed glanced up, "Do tell."

"See, where we feel like something isn't ours if we didn't earn it, he's used to this world of business. In business, everything is about favors, _owing_ people. He wants to give us stuff for nothing because he doesn't want it to be seen as favors. He doesn't want us to think we _owe_ him. Because to him that means we don't actually want to be doing it at all, we just feel we have to. Which in a way we do, but we also totally want to, you feel?"

Ed nodded, "I suppose. So you're saying that every time he does something nice for me, I feel like I've cheated somehow, and every time I do something nice for him, he's thinks it isn't genuine and I'm just trying to pay off a debt so I can leave?"

"Pretty much."

"Oh dear."

"Yeah," she gave him a sympathetic smile, "Not fun."

"So is our plan going to work?"

"I think so. Just make sure he knows you _want_ to do this, not that you _have_ to. Even if you do _have_ to. Got it?"

"I think so," he swallowed hard, "At least this makes it a challenge."

"That's a good thing?" Ivy arched an eyebrow.

Ed nodded, "If it's a challenge, then I can't tell myself I didn't earn it. Anything easy must be a lie, you know."

"Mmm."

They sat in silence for a time, simply enjoying having company that understood. Ed continued his work and Ivy watched for a time, before she zoned out, running through her current list of plants in her mind. She hoped she could expand her collection soon.

Suddenly she jumped up, startling Ed.

"I think that's the door. Quick, let's go!"

Ed hurried to shove his work into a bag, slipping it into a cubby in the wall. He all but ran into the kitchen, snatching up a ladle to begin serving up the plates. He smiled as he heard Ivy greet Oswald, a surprise hug if his hearing was correct, babbling about her day and asking Oswald about his. Ed was honestly astonished at how well Ivy had settled into the mansion. For all his initial worry, she had brought them closer together than they'd been before. And it was cute, in a way, to see Oswald taking on the roles of caretaker and big brother. He made such a good, albeit non-traditional, one.

When he heard Oswald and Ivy approaching the dining room, he placed the plates on a tray and made his way over. Oswald had just sat down, pouring himself and Ed some wine and telling Ivy to find herself some grape juice. Ivy put up a fuss, but Ed knew it was all for show. Ivy had admitted to disliking alcohol while they had been plotting. He told her that it was often an acquired taste, although many people never came around. Besides, he'd reminded her, she'd probably never had anything good.

Either way, Ivy really didn't mind not drinking the wine. She took issue with being singled out, instead.

"Good evening, Oswald," Ed interrupted her tirade, and when his voice came out smooth and confident, he smiled. He was beginning to feel more like his old self. That was to say, his pre-Isabella self, before things with Oswald and his own mental state had started cracking.

"How was your day?" he asked, feeling every part the housewife as he laid a plate of goulash in front of Oswald. He would never want to give up working, especially not working for Oswald, but he had to admit he enjoyed this role almost as much. Staying at home to cater to Oswald made him feel useful, and feeling useful made him feel wanted, and at the end of the day being wanted was all he'd ever, well, _wanted_.

Oswald was looking up at him, expression somewhere between awe and joy, a smile curling at his lips even as he blinked in confusion, "Ed? Did you really do all this for me?"

"Of course," Ed nodded earnestly, laying a basket of freshly baked rolls at the center of the table and taking his own seat, "And this is only the start. We have a lot in store for you this weekend."

Ivy grinned and nodded back, winking at him.

"But seriously, Oswald, how _was_ your day?" he sliced open a roll and began to butter it, peering over his glasses in Oswald's direction.

"I, I suppose it was a good day," Oswald replied, somewhat taken aback, "Tiring, though. Greene is an absolute nightmare when she thinks her spa buddies are going to cut her out of their club."

Ed chuckled, "I wonder what she'd do if you bought the spa..."

Oswald joined him in laughing, "What an absolutely _marvelous_ idea, Ed. I could use a good spa every now and again."

At this, Ed grew serious, "Are you having soreness in your muscles? How's your leg?"

He shrugged, not liking to show weakness, even among friends, "Hurts a bit. Nothing I'm not used to."

Ed shook his head, "Hey, if you're ever having problems with muscles, don't be afraid to ask me. Cheap massages were one of the many things that put me through college, you know. Why don't I show you sometime this weekend?"

Oswald blushed at the thought, unsure if he'd manage to contain himself with Ed's hands on his body. But at the same time, how could he turn down something so tempting..?

"Maybe just the leg," he offered, giving himself a compromise. The constant reminder of his damaged leg should be enough to keep him in check.

"Okay," Ed smiled at him. They continued to eat until Oswald remembered he was supposed to be talking about his day, "Oh! I meant to thank you, Ed, for your little trick with the recordings. Transportation is swamped with outraged citizens and the expanded subway repairs are well on their way to full support. Who'd have thought the kingpin would manage to make more improvements for this city than both of the last two mayors combined? But then again, one of those mayors was in the pocket of an older, weaker kingpin, and the other was, well, an absolute bastard, not to mention a cult-y lunatic."

"It was no trouble. I'm glad things are working out," Ed replied, maintaining his soft smile all the while, "Say, what's going on with the Education board? You met with them today, too, didn't you?"

"Oh yes. They were scared to speak, bless them. Didn't want to hear themselves on the nine o'clock news, I expect. Seemed _very_ willing to listen to my curriculum proposal."

Ed dropped his fork with a gasp, "You mean you actually suggested it?"

"Why not?" Oswald shrugged, "What better time than when they're all wetting themselves trying to stay on my good side?"

"What curriculum proposal?" Ivy asked, glancing from one man to the other.

"We're introducing a mandatory critical thinking class to all of Gotham's public high schools. The classes will present a combination of theoretical and practical scenarios which force the students to think on their feet and push their imagination to its limits," Oswald explained, grinning into his dinner, "And they're the perfect way to recruit the best of the best, too."

All in all, dinner was a comfortable affair. Casual, even. It felt completely natural to gravitate into the home theater afterwards and settle in with popcorn and water to watch Ivy's favored romantic comedy.

Oswald basked in the domesticity of it all. With Ed back among them, it really did feel like a little family. Ivy was leaning back against him, her long legs dangling over the end of the couch. Ed sat on his other side, feet tucked underneath him in such a way that their knees occasionally brushed up against each other. Oswald held his breath every time this happened, but aside from that, he found the evening surprisingly relaxing.

Ivy pointed out her favorite parts and argued with Ed about the plausibility of the time travel. On top of that, the movie was thoroughly enjoyable. When the clock was running out for the happy ending, he grabbed Ed's right hand and Ivy's left, smiling fondly at the both of them as they cheered on the heroine.

His small family certainly made up for size with enthusiasm, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

When the movie was done, Ivy yawned and stood, saying, "Well, I'm wiped. See you guys tomorrow. G'night."

"Goodnight, Ivy," Oswald replied, Ed even giving a half wave.

Oswald nodded as she left, "We should probably turn in, too."

"Yeah," Ed agreed, "We've got a big weekend ahead of us."

Still, neither of them made any move to go. Thinking on Ed's words, the Penguin sighed, a bemused smile on his face, "I'm still not sure why you two planned all this."

Ed swallowed, glancing away, "We care about you, Oswald. Do we need a better reason than that?"

He carefully avoided the most honest answer, that Oswald had done so much for them and they wanted to give him something in return. After Ivy's revelation, he knew it would only push Oswald further away.

"I guess not," Oswald smiled at him, and he couldn't help but recall the last time they'd sat on a couch together.

Ed glanced down to where their hands were still clasped together and gave Oswald's a light squeeze before standing up as well, "Goodnight, Oswald. Sweet dreams."

And with that, he departed.

Oswald watched him go, jaw hitting the floor. Did Edward have any idea how, how _flirtatious_ that had sounded?

He sighed. The poor man probably didn't, bless his heart. He'd always been known for being socially awkward and missing boundaries. For being... too close.

 _And yet not close enough,_ Oswald mused. Funny how things work like that.

Well, there was nothing for it but to get to bed, he supposed. How else was he to discover what Ed and Ivy had in store for him?

As he settled into bed, his eyes slipped shut and he saw the intense look in Ed's eyes as he'd uttered his parting words.

_Sweet dreams._

Well, Ed needn't have worried on that account.

~ ~ ~

Oswald sighed contentedly as he slowly drifted into consciousness. He rolled over, keeping the bright sunlight at bay. His dreams had been very sweet indeed, filled with all the members of his family. He'd dreamed of telling his mother about Ed, of his father giving him advice on how to win his heart, of all of five of them having a picnic by a lake. Ed looked surprisingly good in plaid, and Ivy was making flower crowns for the lot of them. The sun began to set, turning the water gold, and Oswald had sat on a blanket, leaning back against Ed, who wrapped an arm around him and held his hand, kissing him on the cheek when the first of the fireflies appeared, laughing as Ivy would catch one and whisper to it before releasing it. Gertrude and Elijah were off a little ways, sitting similarly and talking of days gone by. He felt totally at peace.

His peace was shattered slightly when his bleary eyes found his alarm clock flashing the numbers _11:02_ at him.

What had possessed Ed and Ivy to let him sleep so late?

Scrambling out of bed, Oswald fastened a robe over his pajamas and hurried down the stairs. He followed the sound of voices and found the other two members of the household sitting on gliders in the sun room, sipping tea and swapping stories.

"And this little fellow," Ivy pet one of the numerous plants she'd introduced to the room, "saved the day!"

"Really?" Ed raised an eyebrow above the frame of his glasses, "How? Wait, no, let me guess. Hallucinogen?"

Ivy shook her head so rapidly that her long coppery hair fanned out slightly behind her as she giggled, "Nope! Heavy tranquilizer. When the little shit tried to report me to the boss, he got his own ass fired for being too happy about 'company losses'!"

Ed cackled at that before leaning forward, "Ooh, you want to hear about the time I got the GCPD's worst medical examiner fired? I'd regret it now that I'm not with them if it hadn't been so utterly _worth it_! Honestly, you'd have thought the man was a coroner! A coroner could probably do better at that."

Oswald chose this moment to announce his presence, striding into the room and taking the window seat.

"Oh! Our favorite feathered friend is up!" Ed exclaimed, hastily setting his own tea aside to fetch a cup for Oswald.

"No thanks to either of you," Oswald replied, taking the tea gratefully, "Why on Earth didn't you wake me?"

"Because, Oswald," Ed explained, retaking his seat, "This weekend is all about you, and we know how much you enjoy long mornings."

"Oh," he sipped his tea, unsure of how to respond.

"So you take as long as you need with brunch, okay?" Ivy insisted, "We've got most of it prepared, so it'll all be ready the moment you give the word."

"What's the word?"

"'Now,' or any variation thereof," Ed replied.

"Now."

Ivy didn't bother to hold back her giggle as she got up, "Ed did all the work last night, so why don't I let you boys chat while I set everything out?"

She disappeared into the parlor, leaving Oswald and Ed in what could only be classified as an awkward silence.

"Did you - "

They both jumped at the sound of Ed's voice, shattering the quiet air.

He cleared his throat and tried again, "Did you sleep well, Oswald?"

"Yes, very," Oswald answered shortly, fighting back a blush as he recalled his dreams, in particular his father's advice on how he had his mother's whimsical charm that was sure to be irresistible to whomever he deigned to show it to and on not letting love slip through his fingertips when he had it.

_I did, my boy, and I regretted it for the rest of my life. I never had the chance to marry the love of my life. You still have your chance, son._

Ed didn't need to know about any of that.

Instead, he followed up his brief response with an even briefer, "You?"

Ed shook his head, "Alas, my coughing seems worst when I'm lying down. But no matter! Today is going to be a good day. I can feel it in my bones."

Oswald laughed, "I never would have expected a man like yourself to rely so heavily on instinct."

"Belief can be powerful, Oswald," Ed reminded him.

"That it can."

~ ~ ~

Thoroughly satisfied after a delicious brunch of deli meats and cheeses and bread and fruit and jam, Oswald's curiosity was mounting as to the rest of the day's plans.

"Oh, nothing big," Ivy assured him, "We thought you could use a quiet day first, what with being so busy as mayor and kingpin and all."

Oswald inclined his head. That he could.

"We thought we'd focus today on one of your favorite activities," she explained as they piled into the back of one of Oswald's limos, "The shopping spree. Specifically, clothes."

Oswald raised an eyebrow, "Really? You didn't seem too interested when I took you out last."

"Well, it's for you! And I just think it's all a little too... complicated. What do I need with a wardrobe full of clothes that I'm not even supposed to get dirt on?"

"Don't worry, I'll teach you someday," Oswald assured her, "At least the two of you seem to share a passion for green. Not that green is a particularly good color for clothes, mind you."

"I beg to differ," Ed said haughtily. Ivy simply shrugged, "And I don't care."

"Well you decided this would be a good idea, so you're going to let me buy you both clothes that _actually_ look good."

"Fine."

"Good," Oswald crossed his arms, not feeling angry in the slightest, rather excited at the prospect of getting to dictate Ed's style for the day. Ivy got a pass for being young, but Ed was an adult and therefore had no excuse for his dreadful taste. Being able to dress him would be doubly satisfying as he could avoid Ed's usual horrors _and_ have the opportunity to make him even more beautiful than usual.

He couldn't wait.

~ ~ ~

"So?" Ed twirled around, completely unbidden, "How do I look?"

 _Ravishing_ , Oswald thought, _An angelic vision come to bless us mere mortals._

"Dashing," he said instead, "And much more dignified."

Ed didn't try to suppress his wide grin at Oswald's praise, "So you like it?"

"Truly."

"What about me?" Ivy strutted out of the changing rooms, doing her best 'modelling' imitation.

Oswald clapped his hands, "Dressed to kill! And I don't mean figuratively, by the way, there's a reason that dress is dark red. And has all those lovely little hidden pockets."

Ivy nodded, "I thought there was something weird about the sleeves. I got my hand caught on one when I was putting it on."

Oswald rolled his eyes, "You'll learn to identify features like that _before_ you get stuck in them. Eventually."

She laughed, "Oh? You ever get stuck in one of your fancy suits?"

"That's none of your business."

At least, he thought, Ed had the decency to hide _his_ laughter.

~ ~ ~

Oswald deliberately went last, wanting every ounce of his attention on his friends' wardrobes while he was selecting them. With his own he hemmed and hawed, alternating shirts and vests and ties and jackets until he finally found the perfect combination. A bright enough purple to signify his wealth but a subtle enough amount to maintain _true_ fashion.

Emerging from his booth he leaned on his cane in a stance that had come to terrify the lowlifes of Gotham.

"Well, what do you think?"

"You look handsome," Ivy said with the solemnity only children can achieve, "And regal. Right, Ed?"

"Right," Ed swallowed hard, eyes flicker across Oswald's body, "Very handsome indeed. Charming even."

Oswald blushed and turned around to view the outfit for himself in the mirror again. He almost didn't catch Ed's whispered, " _Stunning_."

Perhaps he had misheard? Or perhaps Ed hadn't meant anything by it. That didn't stop the shiver running down Oswald's spine at his nigh sensual tone, though. He recalled Ivy's advice. _Wait for Sunday._

One more day. He could do that.

He still feared a rejection by Ed, but his initial concerns were somewhat lessened by how _warm_ the other man was being. Somewhere in all that "send me away" and "love is a weakness" nonsense, Ed had managed to both find a new purpose _and_ open himself up emotionally. Oswald was beginning to suspect his chat with Ivy was to thank, and while he was grateful, he couldn't help but be hurt by that. To think Ed hadn't been able to come to him in his time of need. He knew he needed to apologize for brushing him aside, to let Ed know that he could always count on Oswald too.

But that could wait until all the cards were on the table. He was sick of lying to Ed. Whether he got what he wanted or not, Ed deserved to know the truth behind the recent tension in their friendship. He was done plotting.

This, too, had been his father's advice.

~ ~ ~

"So what next?" asked Oswald, watching the sun sink lower in the sky. _5:25_

"Next we swing by that takeout place to pick up dinner," Ed informed him, "You know, the good one."

Oswald _did_ know, and he smiled at the memory of his last encounter with it.

Soon the limo was filled with the scent of piping hot noodles and eggrolls, and of sweet and spicy sauces. Oswald breathed it all in, savoring the scent as it drew forth pleasant memories.

He had been so resistant to Ed's friendship back then, but Ed had worn him down, and Oswald would forever be glad that he did. Having Ed's friendship had been like a light in the darkness, showing him a new and wonderful world where before there had been only one path to take, for better or worse. He recalled, too, his words to Jim Gordon on the subject.

_Better to walk with a friend in the dark, than to walk alone in the light._

Those had been inexperienced words. He knew now why what he had with Ed was so much better than what he'd tried to have with Jim. A true friend brought the light with them. He knew he might always see Jim through rose-tinted glasses, but he could no longer delude himself about their 'friendship'. Not when the real thing was sitting right in front of him, giving him a smile that was far too pure and innocent for the sadistic killer Oswald had seen that night when they'd had this takeout last.

He followed Ed and Ivy into the house, the former carrying the bags of food, and stopped short when he saw the dining room. Ed dropped the food at the center of the table, seemingly the only open space. Games were piled high in every corner of the room, and on one side stood a familiar machine. Ed stepped over to it and fiddled around until a _very_ familiar song spilled out into the room.

Oswald's jaw dropped an inch and he peered at Ed, "What's this?"

"Not a repeat of last time, I promise. No murder, as fun as that would be. Ivy hasn't been properly trained yet."

Oswald nodded, "Of course, but what - "

"Family game night," Ivy interrupted, "Why don't you pick the first game while Ed and I go scrounge up drinks and stuff?"

He nodded absently, caught on the word _family_. Just like he'd always wanted. He had a family again. And one where he didn't even have to be ashamed of or hide his crimes.

When he realized they had left the room, his brain registered Ivy's words and he looked around, browsing through the games. They'd found _everything_.

Clue, Monopoly, Life, Guess Who?, Trivial Pursuit, Win-Lose-or-Draw, Pictionary, Boggle, Scrabble, Password, Balderdash, Huggermugger, _everything_.

He extracted Balderdash from the pile, examining the large purple box. Being a world-class bullshitter, Oswald excelled at this game. He wondered how he would do against a man who probably _knew_ the words on the cards.

Poor Ivy wouldn't have a chance, but she'd probably find it funny anyway.

~ ~ ~

"Alright, 'Peerl' is

a) Tertiary veins in a leaf  
b) A light, drizzling rain  
c) When a pearl is your peer  
or  
d) The shadow under a cloud"

Ivy glanced at Ed, trying to determine which answer was his. She had written 'c' and she knew it wasn't 'a', but which of the other two was it? If only he guessed first...

"Ivy?"

"Alright, I'll pick 'd', the shadow."

"Ed?"

"The answer is 'b', Oswald."

"Right again, Ed," Oswald tossed the card into the discard pile, "That's two more points for you."

"Damn it," Ivy shook her head, "I can't believe I guessed yours again."

Ed shrugged, looking inordinately pleased with himself, "Yes well, Oswald should have known better than to make his a plant fact."

"You're not wrong..." Oswald grumbled, "Well, I think that makes you the winner, Ed. How about you pick the next game?"

"Oh, of course."

"And not a trivia game!" Ivy cut in.

"Fine," Ed rolled his eyes, "Clue."

"That's not fair, either, you used to work in forensics!"

"And what exactly is a game that you would count as 'fair'?"

"Catch."

Ed glared at her.

"Just kidding. Carry on."

"Uh huh. So as I was saying, Clue."

"Dibs on Mr. Green."

Ed glared at her again.

"Hey, I live to please," she gave a mock bow, "...myself."

"Fine," Ed replied, "But only if Oswald agrees to play as Colonel _Mustard_."

"Screw you, Ed. I'm making you play as Mrs. Peacock."

"I'm an intellectual! If I can't be Mr. Green than I should be Professor Plum," he argued.

"No, you should be Mrs. Peacock because you _are_ a peacock."

"I am shocked and offended."

"Don't worry, it suits you," Oswald assured him, and Ed accepted the apology by taking the suggested piece.

Once the cards were shuffled and distributed, Oswald glanced down at his hand. Ed was going to hate his strategy for the game. His chief of staff was already scribbling notes in the margins of his paper, formulating theories based on evidence. Oswald preferred the make-wild-accusations and guess-based-on-instinct approach.

Before the game had a chance to truly begin, Oswald cleared his throat, "There is an element of pointlessness to this."

Ed looked up, eyes wide, almost as if worried.

"We all already know it was _me_. If there's a mysterious body lying around a mansion, there's at _least_ a sixty percent chance I put it there."

"Oh my god, Os... "

"Hey, I'm just stating a fact!"

~ ~ ~

"Say I won, say it!"

"Never."

"Pengy, make him say I won!"

"Ed, tell her she won."

"Ugh, fine!" Ed threw up both hands, "You win, Ivy. Congratulations, you're a better artist than me."

"Than I."

" _Than me. You_ made me say it, so consider this your punishment."

"Ew, get a room!" Ivy stuck out her tongue.

Well, that shut them up alright. If they hadn't been so determinedly not looking at each other, they might have noticed that they were _both_ glaring at Ivy. Ivy noticed, naturally, but remained unconcerned, flipping her long hair over one shoulder, "Just sayin'. But I told you I'm the master of any art game, didn't I? We all have our specialties."

Ed shrugged, "I'd slaughter you both in trivia games and you know it."

Oswald nodded, "See? And I can wipe the floor with you guys in strategy."

"Oh, don't hold your breath," Ed warned. Oswald met his gaze, eyes gleaming, "I've never lost a game of Connect Four in my life, I'll have you know. Fourteen draws and countless wins, but... Never. One. Loss."

"I guess we'll have to remedy that some time."

"I would _love_ to see you try."

"Hey, just tell me beforehand. I wanna get popcorn," Ivy interrupted, "And not to kill the mood, but, it's almost midnight. And we're not letting you sleep in quite so late tomorrow."

"Oh?" Oswald glanced between them, "What are we doing?"

"My inhabitants can be prisoners or refugees. Few, if any, speak your language. If I am well planned, I can take you around the world in a single day. What am I?"

Oswald cast an inquiring look at Ivy, but she merely shook her head and drew her finger over her lips as if zipping them.

"Okay, okay. I'll wait and see."

Ed frowned, "I just told you."

"If the answer comes to me by morning I promise I'll let you know," Oswald assured him, "But until then, goodnight. Oh, and thank you. Both of you. I enjoyed today. I can't recall the last time I've had this much genuine fun."

"Anytime, Ozzie."

"It was my - _our_ \- pleasure."

Oswald fell asleep with a smile on his face and thoughts of his family swirling through his head.

~ ~ ~

A knock on his door jolted him out of a what had been both a very pleasant and fairly embarrassing dream. It began with him waking up - usually the start of a nightmare, honestly - but this time he was lying in bed, enjoying the warm sunlight that filtered through his windows. It had seemed like a beautiful morning.

And then he felt movement at his side and he froze, reaching as quickly as he dared for the knife hidden beneath his pillow.

"Os - ?"

He froze again. The voice had been groggy, rough, and _gorgeous_ , but it was absolutely unmistakable.

"Ed?"

He sat up, turning around and inhaled sharply as his eyes fell on the sleep-ruffled form beside him. Bleary, glasses-less eyes peered up at Oswald, "Hi."

Oswald couldn't help but smile fondly at him, "Good morning."

"Morning," Ed replied, returning his smile with a small one of his own, "Sleep well?"

"Very," Oswald answered, a warm satisfaction filling him as Ed slung an arm across his waist and snuggled closer, burying his face in Oswald's chest, "That's good."

Oswald brought up his arms to encircle Ed almost on instinct, holding him close as Ed spoke into his skin.

Was he naked? Oswald never slept in the nude, and yet...

He tensed slightly as Ed began to make his way lower and lower, still mumbling into him.

"Did you know that... "

Oswald wasn't sure what he did or did not know, because Ed's mouth had reached his hip and he wasn't exactly listening anymore. Watching, yes, but not listening. He was too enthralled by the vision before him. When had anyone ever made him feel so good? His whole world began to narrow to Ed's dark eyes on his own, Ed's fingertips skittering across his skin, Ed's mouth and lips and _tongue_ and -

And then Ed's hands came up to hold his hips and something felt... odd. Something hard and cold pressed into his side. Brain functions severely decreased, Oswald still had the presence of mind to pull Ed's hand up to inspect what was digging into his flesh.

His heart skipped a beat as his eyes fell on a glittering gold ring, two amethysts embedded deep within it.

On a hunch his eyes darted to the table at his side and found a nearly identical ring, with emeralds instead of amethysts, gleaming up at him.

_Engagement rings._

It was that which pushed him over the edge, eyes rolling up into his skull, vision going white, and then -

He opened them to find his room dark. His curtains were closed. Eyes scanning his side he found, of course, no one. Clothes were in place, bedside table was empty, and he was alone. And hard. Great.

"Oswald?"

He jumped, eyes growing wide at the sound of that all-too-familiar voice.

"Oswald, wake up. It's nine. Breakfast in ready."

Swallowing his shame and guilt, glad Ed had not attempted to open his door, he mustered up all his courage to casually reply, "Okay, I'll be right down."

"Good."

Oh god how could he face his friend? True, he had been intending to confess his love to Ed today, but somehow this was... worse. Sex was not something Oswald was familiar with, nor was it something he ever thought he'd care to be. Never in his life had he actually _desired_ another person. Sometimes he even forget how common it was for other people. But now his brain decided to drop this bombshell on him hours before he bared his soul.

What would Ed think of him? Imagining him in such a way was surely a gross violation of his privacy. It was _disrespectful_. But he had promised himself no more lies, so he had no choice but to tell Ed about this as well and hope Ed would forgive him for taking such liberties, even if he had been unconscious at the time.

At least, he thought, the embarrassment had taken care of his, for lack of a better word, problem. Even as an experimenting teen, lust had never done much for him. The slightest distraction tended to make him forget his arousal entirely, and it was never worth it to try and get the mood back.

Well, one obstacle gone for the morning. Reluctant to face the day (and his love) Oswald dragged himself out of bed to get ready. He had a trip to a mysterious location first, before he had to worry about Ed's practically inevitable rejection.

With a heavy heart, he realized rejection made the top five list of best responses Ed could give. What he feared most was disgust or, heaven forbid, hatred. A simple, "I'm sorry, but I don't feel the same, let's move on please," wouldn't hurt nearly as much.

He sighed and tucked his struggle in the back of his mind. One thing at a time.

Now, to breakfast.

~ ~ ~

One apple scone and two cups of ceylon tea later, Oswald was once again lounging in his limo with his two favorite people. Unlike yesterday, when Ed and Ivy had both sat across from him, Ed was by his side. Oswald could have sworn they started with a good five inches between them, but as the vehicle moved forward, the gap seemed to have vanished. He gulped when he felt Ed's thigh brush his own, keeping his eyes trained on a blank piece of seat somewhere to Ivy's right. Had he glanced over, he might have seen Ed flipping his far hand back and forth, almost obsessively, his most obvious nervous tell.

"So did you figure it out?"

"I'm sorry?" he started at the sound of Ed's voice.

"My riddle..?"

"Oh," Oswald flinched internally. He really shouldn't be feeling as guilty as he was about forgetting, "I'm sorry, Ed. I am afraid I have not."

"Do you want to know the answer?"

"Of course," Oswald responded earnestly. Anything that was important to Ed was important to him. Well, he thought, remembering the girl who had derailed them, _almost_ anything.

"It's right there," Ed smiled, pointing out the window. Oswald turned in his seat, searching for Ed's answer, when he realized where they were.

Tilting his head in confusion he asked, "Gotham City Zoo?"

Ivy nodded, "I thought you might want to steal a penguin."

Oswald blinked slowly at her.

"Really."

"Yeah! Wouldn't that be cool?"

"Um... "

"I don't know about you, Ed, but I heard, 'Yes!' We're getting a pet penguin! C'mon, let's go," she jumped up as the limo slowed to a stop, tugging on both their sleeves.

Oswald cleared his throat, allowing himself to be dragged along while searching for a suitable protest. The mayor of Gotham _could not_ steal a penguin from the zoo.

...could he?

~ ~ ~

"Otters are some of the smartest mammals. They can even use tools, which is one of the major signs of intelligence," Ed had been speaking practically nonstop since they'd entered the zoo, rattling off fact after fact about each animal they saw.

Oswald elbowed him, "Hey, if I'm a penguin, does that make you an owl, because you're so wise?"

Ed drew himself up to his full height, chest puffing up comically as he took a deep breath, face contorting into a grimace, "Absolutely not! Owls are _not_ wise. They are _not_ intelligent. They're idiotic! Did you know that one of the most common causes of owl deaths is choking on their food because they couldn't figure out how much was too much and got a rodent head stuck in their throat? If you want an intelligent bird, you should try a corvid. _They_ are some of the most advanced species of, not only birds, but _all_ animals."

Holding up his hands in surrender Oswald replied, "Sorry?"

"You should be. Comparing me to an _owl_ of all things..."

"Oh please, Ed, _nobody_ knows that."

"Well maybe they should!"

"Ed, think of it this way: the fact that you know it while everyone else is still caught up on owls as a symbol of wisdom means you're smarter than they are. Use their ignorance against them."

Ed scanned his face, searching for _something_. Finally he nodded, "Okay."

"Good. Now let's go see something dangerous, like a lion."

Moving forward, skip back in his step already, Ed fell back into his spiel, "Did you know that male lions tend to be really lazy? Everyone portrays them as vicious and dangerous, but the female lions actually do most of the hunting..."

Oswald tuned out, letting Ed's voice surround him, focusing on details such as his excited pitch and the slight nasal tone that had nothing on his own rather than the content of his speech. While Oswald appreciated his chief of staff's extensive knowledge, he knew he didn't have room in his brain for every little fact. He liked having a nice clear space for forming strategies instead, and he was well aware of how noisy Ed's mind could get. He had no desire to experience that firsthand.

"Hey, guys, you'll never guess who I just ran into," Ivy interrupted Ed's ramblings as she approached, having departed to buy herself an ice cream. Without waiting for an answer, she continued, "Cat! I haven't seen her in _ages_ and, well, she isn't really busy today or anything, so I was wondering if you'd be terribly disappointed if I joined her? Ed can take care of everything else we had planned. That part was more his idea anyway. Can I, Pengy? Please?"

Oswald sighed fondly at her attempt at copying Ed's flawless puppy-dog eyes, and replied, "Of course, Ivy. Ed and I will be just fine. Go have fun with your friend."

"Yes! Thanks, Pengy, you're the best," she squealed, running up to give him a quick hug before dashing off, only barely managing to keep her ice cream from toppling to its death on the warm pavement below.

Oswald sighed again, "Who would have guessed teenage girls had so much energy? I thought they were supposed to be depressed and lazy or something."

Ed rolled his eyes, "I'm pretty sure it depends on the individual, Os. You know that."

"Yeah, I do," he admitted, grinning, "So, you gonna help me steal a penguin or what?"

Ed barked out a surprised laugh, "Seriously? You want to?"

"I gave the idea due consideration and came to a conclusion."

"And what conclusion is that, if I may ask?"

"I decided: why not?"

"'Why not?' Is that what you're going to tell the judge when you get accused of penguin-napping?"

"Hey, with you on my side, I can hardly get caught, can I?" Oswald offered, trying flattery to win Ed's support. The effect he got was not the one he wanted. Ed frowned, face flushing as he muttered, "Sure. It's not like I got caught for my crimes and sent to Arkham or anything..."

"Ed," Oswald turned to him, placing what he hoped was a supportive hand on his elbow, "We've both been there. I understand. But last time, you didn't have me. What we couldn't do alone, we can easily accomplish together."

Ed inhaled sharply, opening his mouth as if to respond before snapping it shut. After standing there for another few moments, he drew in a longer breath and said, "You're right. We're stronger together. Os - wald... I... " he shook his head, "Nevermind, let's go."

Oswald furrowed his eyebrows, "Go where?"

"To the penguins?"

"Ed, I was _joking_. What would I do with a penguin?"

"I... don't know," Ed admitted, "Want to go see them anyway?"

"Sure. And then why don't we head home. Unless you had something else planned out?"

"No," Ed shook his head, "Everything else is at home."

"Okay."

~ ~ ~

"Okay, but seriously, I do not look like them, do I?"

Ed smiled, "I'm afraid you rather do."

Oswald scoffed, but he felt his heart-rate skyrocket. Only a minute ago Ed had called them cute. Surely he couldn't mean..? A part of him scowled at the idea of being 'cute', but he supposed he could give Ed a pass. Ed was ever the exception, after all.

"Maybe you _should_ steal some, someday. Make yourself a little penguin army... " Ed's grin widened into his signature face-splitting expression of amusement, "You could get everybody's guard down with how adorable it all looked, and then hit them while they're weak."

"Somehow that is not a bad plan. How is that not a bad plan?"

Ed laughed and Oswald grew warm despite the cold temperatures of the penguin habitat. It was such a pleasant sound. He could probably live on Ed's laugh alone if he had to. He gave his own smile at the thought.

"So, you ready to head home?"

"Of course," Oswald replied. He was excited to discover what last mysterious surprise Ed had in store for him. He was also nervous, knowing the time of his confession was drawing near. Oswald glanced out of the corner of his eyes at Ed, standing by his side. Soon his heart and soul would be laid bare before this man. He only hoped that Ed would stay after he heard him out.

"Come on, then," Ed muttered, more to himself than Oswald, laying his right hand on Oswald's shoulder as they walked in order to stop himself from reaching for the other man's hand. His lips were twitching slightly both with repressed words and with the silent conversation he was holding in his mind. He ran over the list of what he had to do in his mind and then reminded himself not to get his hopes up. Without Ivy there to be convincing, it was easy to remember all the reasons why Oswald wasn't in love with him. Tonight there would be nothing to expect except a personal satisfaction at being able to make the man he loved happy, even if it was in the capacity of friend.

Oswald zeroed in on the feeling of Ed's palm against his back, trying to calm his pulse, both overjoyed and bitterly disappointed when the limo came into view. He tried to ignore Ed taking his hand to help him into the vehicle when he clearly didn't need it. Probably muscle memory, he told himself, from all the times he'd had to help Oswald after hours of standing at events and speeches.

The ride back was uncomfortably quiet, both parties too wrapped up in their thoughts to remember to speak and no Ivy to fill the silence. The upside to this was that there was no one to notice the awkward atmosphere, the driver being separated by a retractable wall.

By the time they reached the mansion, both men were tense with anticipation. Ed's plan was burning in his mind and he was concentrating so hard on not screwing up that he nearly forgot to do step one. Realizing his error, he asked in a rush, "Oswald, why don't you go take a long, relaxing bath while I cook dinner, okay?"

Oswald nodded, "A sound idea. Say, we haven't had dinner, just the two of us, in a long time, have we?"

Ed shook his head, "A month at least, I believe."

A thought struck him and he added, "Please consider this an apology for missing dinner with you all those weeks ago. And for everything else. I - I'm sorry, Oswald. For telling you that you could always count on me and then immediately proving my words false. Please take this weekend as a sign that I meant it, I really did, and let me try again? There is no one I respect or care about more and you deserve to know that in actions. I'm so sorry for letting you down and if you give me another chance, I promise to never do it again."

"Ed, I believe you. You haven't let me down and I have no intention of kicking you out, if that's what you're afraid of."

"So you forgive me?"

"Yes. And for my own part, I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have pushed you aside as if you meant nothing. You are my dearest friend, Ed, you mean more to me than you could possibly imagine, and I should have acted like it. Could you ever forgive me, too?"

Ed gaped at him, "Of course I forgive you, Oswald. I - I - I... " he stopped, a curtain of neutrality falling across his face, "Why don't you go take that bath."

It wasn't a question.

Oswald felt slightly concerned by his sudden shift in mood, but a nice, long bath was tempting and Oswald didn't know what to say anyway.

So with a small smile to Ed, he retreated to the master bathroom, filling the claw footed tub with warm water and bubbles. As he sank into the soothing heat, he considered what he wanted to say to Ed later that night. He still remembered the speech he'd planned for last time, but he wasn't sure if it was his best option anymore. Last time, for all his nerves, he had been more confident of Ed's reciprocation. This time it was more about Ed deserving to know the truth.

"Ed," he began, trying the words out loud, "You compared this meal to the one you missed. I don't know if you remember, but... "

Once his new speech was planned, Oswald noticed the temperature in the water dropping. He emerged from the bath, dried himself off, and dressed in comfortably dry evening-at-home clothes. He was tempted to wear his best suit, but that might cause Ed to ask questions and he wanted to be the one to introduce the subject.

Exiting the bathroom, he was stunned to find his bedroom door open and a path laid to it and beyond. The walkway was marked by an army of origami penguins, one on each side like lights in a garden path or buoys in a lake one. He stepped between his paper guard of honor, following the trail into the hallway and down the stairs, ending up at the couch in front of the fire. A warm flame was already blazing in its proper place and Oswald sat near it, letting this dry heat wash over him.

"Ah, I thought I heard someone," Ed's voice sounded from the doorway and he turned to hear, "Dinner's in the oven. It'll be ready in about twenty minutes."

Ed crossed the room to sit beside him, "I thought, maybe - if you wanted to - we discussed - you mentioned - "

"Ed," Oswald interrupted gently and Ed broke off, "Just ask me. You have nothing to be afraid of, I promise."

Ed swallowed and nodded, "I thought maybe I could massage your leg, like we talked about?"

Oh. Oswald blinked. They _had_ talked about that, hadn't they. No, Ed certainly didn't have a reason to be afraid, but Oswald did.

"I, of course," he said. What else should he have done?

 _Tell Ed immediately_ , his brain suggested, _letting him do this before he knows is a bit underhanded, don't you think?_

But Ed was already shifting their positions to better access Oswald's damaged leg and it _had_ been bothering him, so... it couldn't really hurt, could it?

Ed wrapped his long fingers around the fabric-covered flesh, digging into the muscles and carefully shifting over the damaged nerves, bones, and tissue. Oswald's worries melted out along with the pain and tension as Ed worked his hands into the injury. It felt divine, and Oswald had to ask.

"You said you did this in college? How did you learn?"

Ed flushed and stared into the fire, "I did a lot of baking when I lived on my own... and I figured it couldn't be too much different from kneading bread."

Oswald snorted, "And was it?"

"A bit. But I got better!"

"Yeah," Oswald agreed seriously, "I can tell."

The corner of Ed's lip quirked into a half smile, "Thanks."

"Shouldn't I be the one thanking you? I'd forgotten how it feels to not have one leg constantly in pain."

Ed didn't respond for awhile, eventually mumbling, "You shouldn't have to. Be in pain, that is. Or thank me. I told you I would do anything for you, and this is hardly the most difficult thing I can imagine."

"Well," replied Oswald, quite overcome, "Well I'm going to thank you anyway. You do so much for me and it's the least I can do to show you how much I appreciate your efforts."

Ed bit his lip but said nothing. His slender fingers continued to roll the knots out of Oswald's leg until they were both startled by a shrill beeping. Ed jumped, hands fluttering as he tried to stand without jostling Oswald.

"That'll be the food," Ed spoke, perhaps to have something to say, "Give me a few minutes to get everything cooled and set out. The table's already laid in the dining room, if you'd prefer to wait there?"

Oswald nodded, slowly shifting himself back into a sitting position and then standing. He marveled at how little his bad leg hurt when he stepped forward on it. There were still a few dull shocks of pain, but compared to what he had become accustomed to, it was nothing.

Making his way into the dining room, Oswald reviewed his speech one last time in his head. He smiled at the table setting, noticing that Ed had chosen the most valuable crystal and silver for them. How thoughtful.

Ed returned from the kitchen, laden with plates of food. Oswald's jaw dropped, "How much did you make?"

"Too much, I'm sure. I just, I wanted to make sure you could have whatever you wanted. I - I want to make you happy, Os."

Oswald suddenly understood the phrase 'butterflies in the stomach' a lot better.

 _Then be mine_ , he wanted to say, _Let me take care of you and love you. That's all I ask._

_All._

_Ha._

"That's... incredibly sweet of you, Ed. I, you should know, I want to make you happy, too."

Ed smiled over at him, and it was so open and pure (and hopeful), like that time on the couch after Ed almost died, that Oswald wanted to melt. He wanted to frame that smile, he wanted to see it every day for the rest of his life.

And that's why he had to tell Ed tonight. If Ed was willing to be open with him, he deserved transparency in return.

When the last of the food had been brought out and the wine had been poured, Ed finally sat down. Their places had been moved to the center of the table so that they could sit across from each other, but with the shortest distance between them. Oswald allowed himself to take a few bites, so as not to worry Ed, and to give Ed some time to eat. The poor man deserved it after everything he'd done tonight.

Once a comfortable silence had settled over them and Oswald decided they were far enough into the meal that it wouldn't be completely ruined if his confession went badly, he reached across the table to wrap his fingers around Ed's wrist, halting him in the process of cutting a piece of meat.

"Oswald?" Ed looked at his hand and then his face, eyes wide as his breath came quicker than it had the moment before.

"Ed," Oswald breathed in, "I have something to say to you, and I need you to listen. I know you may want to interrupt, but please let me finish? Whatever you want to say, I promise I will accept it once I've said my piece."

Ed gulped and nodded, fingers tightening around his knife and fork.

"Ed, you compared this meal to the one you missed. I don't know if you remember, but the reason I asked you to meet me for dinner that night was that I had something important to tell you. I can no longer wait to tell you because that 'something' is the reason I behaved so distant these last few weeks and while you may have forgiven me for it, I have not. At the very least, you deserve to know _why_. What you do with this knowledge is entirely up to you, but I desperately hope you still wish to stay at my side. Your support and friendship have been invaluable to me these past months. Ed, you are my closest friend, but more than that... I love you. I am in love with you. And you have a right to know that, even if it means you'll leave. I promise I'll understand no matter what."

He studied Ed carefully, heart sinking as he perceived nothing more than a blank stare in return.

~ ~ ~

"That's... incredibly sweet of you, Ed. I, you should know, I want to make you happy, too."

Ed almost couldn't believe that those words had been directed at him. He gave Oswald the most sincere and loving smile he could give and finished setting the food on the table. Soon enough they began to eat.

 _It worked_ , he thought, _Ivy's plan worked. I didn't feel scared or undeserving at all! I want to make him happy and he wants to make me happy and it's all okay. I didn't lie or cheat or anything, I proved to him that I could be there for him and it worked! He wants me to be here and I've finally earned it. I -_

His thoughts abruptly shorted when he felt a warm hand encircle his wrist.

"Oswald?"

What was Oswald doing? Was this some game Ed didn't know? A puzzle that he had to solve? Was this something Oswald did to thank his friends? Was -

"Ed, I have something to say to you, and I need you to listen. I know you may want to interrupt, but please let me finish? Whatever you want to say, I promise I will accept it once I've said my piece."

Ed let himself nod, fear shooting through his body, a chill in his blood. Oswald looked _so worried._ Something was wrong.

"Ed, you compared this meal to the one you missed. I don't know if you remember, but the reason I asked you to meet me for dinner that night was that I had something important to tell you."

 _Of course I remember_ , Ed refrained from saying, _I've been fretting about it for weeks._

"I can no longer wait to tell you because that 'something' is the reason I behaved so distant these last few weeks and while you may have forgiven me for it, I have not."

_Well you should._

"At the very least, you deserve to know _why_. What you do with this knowledge is entirely up to you, but I desperately hope you still wish to stay at my side."

_I could never leave you, Oswald. Not unless you told me to._

"Your support and friendship have been invaluable to me these past months."

_Oh dear. Something's wrong. Something's terribly wrong. You're going to say 'but'. But what? Oh dear. You've noticed, haven't you? You've noticed that I love you and you want me to stop, don't you? But I can't... Oh dear, oh dear, oh -_

"Ed, you are my closest friend, but more than that... I love you. I am in love with you."

Ed's brain short-circuited again and he dropped his cutlery.

"And you have a right to know that, even if it means you'll leave. I promise I'll understand no matter what."

He simply stared ahead, barely hearing Oswald's last sentences.

_I love you. I am in love with you._

It couldn't be. Could it? He had to be dreaming, or hallucinating, but - no, he knew he was awake and Oswald's hand was still solid against his arm. This was real.

"Ed? Oh, Ed, I'm sorry. Please don't be mad, we can still be friends, I can get over - "

He broke off as Ed let out a laugh.

"Ed?"

"Well what do you know? Ivy was right."

Oswald choked on nothing.

_"Ivy? Ivy told you?!"_

Ed was pulled more fully from his thoughts when Oswald retracted his hand. Or, rather, he tried to. Ed grabbed it before he'd pulled it halfway across the table, holding on tightly like a drowning man to a lifeline.

"That day, when we talked. I had confronted her about a... prank. I thought she was making fun of me. She told me then and - " he cut himself off as the rest of Oswald's words clicked into place, "No, Oswald, no, that's not, that's not necessary."

Oswald frowned, confusion evident in his knitted brow and scrunched nose, "What's not necessary?"

"Getting over - and apologizing - I - not leaving, _never_ leaving - I - " he stumbled over his words, still nervous despite Oswald's prior assurance that he had no need to be. Taking his own advice - _you deserve to know that in actions_ \- he brought Oswald's hand up to his lips and pressed a light, barely noticeable kiss to his palm.

Oswald definitely noticed.

"Ed? What - ?"

"I," he brushed his lips across Oswald's thumb, more of a caress then a kiss, really. He repeated the action for each of his fingers, one after each word he whispered, "love you, too, Oswald."

"You do?"

"Yes," he nodded earnestly, "For far longer than even I realized. Since Arkham, at least. Even before, I should have seen myself falling, all the signs were there. I - I'm sorry, Os. For not noticing quicker."

"When _did_ you realize?"

"...Friday morning."

Oswald couldn't help but chuckle at that, "Three days ago? Really?"

Ed nodded again, "I would have told you then, but I couldn't. I didn't deserve... I had to earn it first."

Reaching out with the hand still loosely in Ed's grasp, Oswald stroked the back of it against his cheek, devouring the way Ed's eyelids fluttered shut.

"Oh, Ed. You don't have to _earn_ love. Especially not mine. You deserve to be loved for just being you. That's all I ever needed from you."

"No, Os," Ed frowned, a single tear squeezing its way free of his lashes and rolling down his cheek onto Oswald's hand, "I _have_ to earn it. Other - otherwise it's not mine and, and... "

He let out a whimper as Oswald carefully wrested his hand free and he heard the chair scrape on the floor. How typical of him. Scare off the first person to ever confess their love to him so freely because he was too cowardly to have good things.

His eyes fluttered back open and he jolted back in his chair when he realized Oswald was standing only a couple of inches away.

"Ed, listen to me," Oswald placed both of his hands on Ed's face now, standing over him and staring directly into his eyes. Ed felt a strong urge to look anywhere else, but he couldn't. He was trapped, dangling from a precipice, waiting for Oswald to make his move: push him over the edge or pull him to safety.

"My love is mine to give and take as I please. Neither you nor anyone else can do that for me. My mother told me I would have one love in life, and I know that it is you, Edward Nygma. So I will never take my love back, no matter what you do. If you rejected me, I would be disappointed, but I would still love you. If you stormed out of here, I would be hurt, but I would still love you. If you _betrayed_ me, I would be furious, but I would _still. Love. You._ Do you understand? My love is yours no matter _what_ ," he couldn't help but lean forward and press their lips together, only for the briefest second, before continuing, "And as for whether or not you deserve it, _you undoubtedly do_. As I said earlier, you being yourself is enough. You deserve love just for being such a wonderful, brilliant person. But you've done so much more than that, Ed. You've helped me out and risked yourself for me, you've done so much... And most importantly, you've shown me a better world. You taught me how to believe again, and you've made me happy. I could ask for no more."

"But - But the things I did to you? I had to make up for them. Like turning you away when you needed me most, and - "

"Is that the only reason you helped me? To make up for past errors?"

"Well, _no_ , I wanted to help you because you're the most amazing person I've ever met and you deserve all the help in the world and I love you, but that's not the point - "

"I think that is very much the point, Ed," Oswald pulled Ed to his feet so he could wrap his arms around the man, "You did it because you love me. You _love_ me. Oh my, but that is nice to say out loud. And I do what I do for you because _I_ love _you_. So what are we waiting for?"

Ed blinked.

What _were_ they waiting for?

Oswald was right, of course. As always.

He embraced back, squeezing Oswald with all his might and burying his face between the man's shoulder and neck, mumbling, "Thank you," over and over again into his skin.

Oswald rubbed a hand up and down his back, leaning his head against Ed's. Eventually, he pulled out a chair beside Ed's, guiding them both back down to sit.

When Ed seemed mostly recovered from his emotional overload, Oswald cleared his throat, "Ed, there is one other confession I have to make."

"Oh?" What else could Oswald possibly have to tell him.

"I - I dreamt about you last night, in an entirely inappropriate manner, and I am so terribly sorry. It was improper of me and I shouldn't have - "

Ed laughed, startling him, "It was a dream, Oswald, you can't do much about that."

"You're not mad?"

"Embarrassed, more like. Was I any good?"

"Very."

"Oh," he felt the blush crawling across his skin and he ducked his head, knowing his face had gone all red and blotchy, "That's good?"

"You're really okay with this?"

"Yes," he nodded, swallowing as he said, "I - er - don't exactly have the moral high ground, here."

Oswald gaped at him.

"Oh dear, that doesn't bother _you_ , does it?"

"I, well, I can't say anything, can I? I guess I just never thought anyone would... you know."

"Yeah. I never did, either."

They lapsed into a silence that was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable, both wondering how they could possibly have gotten so lucky, not quite believing they truly had. Ed stared at his hands while Oswald reached for a sip of wine.

"I - can I sleep with you tonight?"

Oswald choked again, coughing on wine.

"Oh no, oh dear, I'm sorry, I - "

He held up a hand, "It's okay, Ed. Really," he gave one last cough and felt his breathing even out, "I was just surprised. Don't you think that's a bit... fast?"

"What?" Ed blinked, eyebrows tilting back in his adorably confused puppy look.

"I'm no expert but I didn't think most people slept together on the first date. If that's even what this is."

"If you want it to be," Ed insisted before he flushed again, "Oh my! I didn't mean it like that, I - I meant, you know, _actually_ sleeping. I just, Everything is easier to doubt at night, and I'm so tired of staying up, worrying and being alone. I've never really gotten to fall asleep or wake up next to someone I love and trust so completely, and I _desperately_ want to. But only if you want to, too, of course."

Oswald let out a breath, "Oh. Of course. That sounds... lovely, actually. Yes, we should definitely do that."

"Oh. Good."

"But for now why don't we finish this delicious dinner you made, my love. I'd hate to see all your hard work go to waste."

Ed smiled at him again, that perfect smile, and everything was finally right.

~ ~ ~

"Hey, so after seeing it at the zoo yesterday, I think you should propose increasing the elephant enclosure," Ivy said when she heard Oswald's distinctive footsteps enter the room, not looking up from selecting a jam to put on her toast, "Hmm, yes, I think the dandelion jelly will do nicely. But as I was saying, I thought the elephants looked a little cramped. You could look into funding - "

She stopped when she turned around, too busy taking in the way Oswald's hand was holding his chief of staff's as they walked, arm in arm, into the parlor. She gasped, more of a preparation for her follow-up squeal of excitement than anything else as she ran to hug first Oswald and then a totally floored Ed.

When she pulled back she clapped her hands together, pressing them to her lips before lowering them as her words spilled out, "You did it! You told him! I knew it! _I_ did it! Ha! Oh my god, I'm a _matchmaker_!"

"What?" Oswald blinked at her, uncomprehending.

She grinned at him, far too energetic for this time of the morning, "I've been trying and trying to get you two together and you finally did! Guess I was right, Eddie, I needed a better plan."

Ed smiled graciously, "That you did. And I'm so grateful for your suggestions. I'm not sure we would have ever gotten there on our own."

"Ed?" Oswald turned to him, "What plan?"

"Ivy was the one who suggested turning the weekend into a gesture of my affections. And she helped me feel more deserving. If she hadn't, I probably would have run away last night."

"Well, I'm glad you didn't," Oswald squeezed his hand. Ed smiled back, "I'm glad I didn't, as well."

"Okay, so this is cute and all and I'm _beyond_ happy that you're finally together, but you do both have jobs to do and right now your job is making elephants more comfortable, understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," Ed's smile turned mischievous, "Of course."

"Oh, and you should probably decide how you're going to tell people. _If_ you're going to tell people. You do work together, after all."

Oswald turned to Ed, eyebrow raised. He hadn't thought about that.

"What do you want to do?"

Ed shrugged, "You're the mayor."

"Yes, but you're the one likely to take more flak. Whatever you decide, I'm okay with."

"I," Ed paused, thinking, "Yes, I'd like to tell people. The whole world, really. And I think I know how, too."

"Oh? How?"

Ed's tongue darted out, licking his lower lip as his grin widened further, "Do you know what's on your schedule for today?"

"Umm... Transportation - _again_ -, Power, and... Security?"

"Mhmm," he nodded, "And do you know what you're doing with Security?"

"Uh, I'm inspecting something?"

"Yep," he popped the 'p', "The G.C.P.D."

" _Oh_."

"Exactly."

"You want to announce our relationship there? I thought you had a lot of bad memories of that place?" Oswald questioned. Ed shrugged, "I mean, well, yes. But, I don't exactly want to _announce_ it, per se. More like... show it off. Rub it in the faces of everybody who was an asshole to me, all those people who told me I'd never love or be loved, that not only were they wrong, but I'm loved by the most powerful man in Gotham. I want them all to see that I'm yours."

Oswald's eyes widened, more than excited by both the prospect and the sentiment.

"You want me to kiss you in the middle of the GCPD?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Definitely."

"Then your wish is my command. Kiss you, I shall. Oh, and Ed?"

"Yes?"

"I'm not going to warn you in advance."

Ed licked his lip again, slower this time, "That's fine by me."

Ivy mimed gagging behind him, and, lacking any sensible women or plants to make knowing eye contact with, made it with her toast instead.  


**Author's Note:**

> Wow I just feel really satisfied for finishing this. Comments are very much appreciated & you can find me on tumblr @singtheskyandfightlikehell
> 
> Oh, and I chose the title for a couple of reasons: obviously for the connection to Ed's 'deserve' thing, as well as to the idea that Isabella (especially in the show) deserved a better plot arc, and also as a Wonder Woman (2017) reference, because "It's not what you deserve, it's what you believe" is both a great quote in general & a great quote for Nygmobblepot
> 
> I hope you all liked it & have a wonderful day!


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